Legacy of Loss
by Griselda Banks
Summary: One wolf, two Red Riding Hoods, and a military full of intrigue. This world will never be the same. Postseries chapterfic. Rated T for blood and disturbing images.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is the sequel to "Metal, Jealousy, and Human Transmutation", "Rules and Reasons", and "The Cicada", but you don't necessarily need to have read those to understand this story. I was originally intending to write another short oneshot about Nina and Trisha becoming State Alchemists, but then when I told my brother about it he helped me come up with a much better idea, which you will see unfolding before you. Probably because we had just watched it, the anime movie Jin-Roh: Wolf Brigade became a major inspiration for this story; if you've seen it, you'll no doubt recognize elements from it, but it's no real loss if you haven't. I've worked through this story so many times I don't think I can improve it much more. I'm reasonably happy with it, and especially with the OCs I've created, but feel free to give any constructive criticism you have. I always appreciate it. Enjoy!**

**Acknowledgments: Thanks are due to my betas, DevLeigh and my brother. Especially my brother, who helped me all through the process of developing the plot, outlining the story (something I**_** rarely**_** do), and proofreading the story twice. Without him, this fic would not exist, so thank you!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or Jin-Roh: Wolf Brigade; they belong to their respective owners (because FMA has too many to remember and I'm too lazy to list them all). I can only lay claim to the many OCs in this story.**

Legacy of Loss

Chapter One

_Once upon a time, there were two sisters whose father loved them very much, so much that one day he gave them matching riding cloaks with pointed hoods, as red as blood. The girls, who loved their father as much as he loved them, wore these hooded cloaks so often that they became known as 'Red Riding Hood' and 'Little Red Riding Hood.'_

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

"The written exam for State Alchemist Qualification will commence...now!" Fuhrer Roy Mustang banged his gavel against the long oak table, and with a flurry of papers turned over, the exam began. The room filled with the sound of scratching pencils, shuffling papers, the occasional soft cough or a creak as someone shifted his position. It was a quiet, almost sleepy atmosphere. Roy cast his gaze lazily over this year's batch of hopefuls seeking the silver watch. Just the same as every year, they were a group of nearly fifty people scattered about the descending seats of the classroom made for the express purpose of this exam. Most were young, but a few were older – the ones who came back each year, never seeming to notice how they always failed. Few women applied, for few had an ambition to become a dog of the military.

This time, however, Roy saw two golden-haired young women wearing matching red coats, sitting next to each other and scribbling away feverishly at their exam papers. The one on the left had close-cropped hair, like a boy's, and bent over with her nose mere centimeters from the paper; the one on the right had wavy, shoulder-length hair that she was absently twirling around her finger as she wrote. Both were so fixated on the exam that Roy doubted whether they would have glanced up even if a bomb exploded in the examination hall. He glanced over at the man standing at attention to his right, who surprisingly enough had worn his dress uniform for this event, and smirked slightly. This man hardly ever wore his uniform, preferring to express his individuality, but Roy supposed there were exceptions to every rule.

Roy amused himself over the next three hours by watching the many candidates. Some seemed nervous, others overconfident. One man towards the front was chewing his pencil to splinters, while the man sitting next to him scrawled each answer with a lazy flourish. The two golden-haired women, however, never looked up or paused in their writing. When Roy banged his gavel down again at the end of the exam, he saw them cradling their hands and complaining to each other.

"Those two young ladies..." Roy mused as he got to his feet, watching the candidates standing and stretching all around the room. "They look...oddly familiar."

He could have sworn that the man at his side snorted, but it was masked by a hacking cough.

Roy gave him a sly look and continued, "Of course, they're so _short_ that I can't be sure-"

That was all it took. The man exploded into a raging mountain of fury, yelling at the top of his voice, "HOW DARE YOU CALL MY DAUGHTERS SHORT?! I'LL TEAR YOUR LIMBS OFF AND THROW THEM TO A SHARK!!"

All the candidates turned in astonishment to see the renowned Full Metal Alchemist screaming bloody murder at the Fuhrer; perhaps they were even more surprised to see the Fuhrer laughing good-naturedly and clapping Full Metal on the back. But the two golden-haired young ladies strode quickly out the door, paying no attention whatsoever to this outburst.

* * *

Nina Elric paused outside the heavy silver-coated oak doors that led to the room where State Alchemist interviews were held. Nervously smoothing down her close-cropped, straight hair, she gazed up at the daunting double doors. Ornate carvings adorned the doors, carvings of a man and a woman standing waist-deep in a river and holding out branches that crossed in the air over their heads. Nina wondered what this was supposed to symbolize, but the nervous somersaults her stomach was performing made her forget the question. The small, oak-paneled waiting room was too quiet; the only sound was a lone fly buzzing monotonously around the ceiling. She wished her sister had been able to wait with her, but the applicants who had passed the written exam were called in one by one for the second half of the qualification exams. The interviews, each half an hour long, ranged over several days and proceeded in alphabetical order. Nina's was the last interview for the day, which meant the evening would be spent suspended in anxiety over the outcome of her sister's interview the following day. As always seemed to happen when she was nervous or upset, Nina's nose began to itch, and she rubbed it vigorously.

Just then, the great doors swung open and a deep voice called out, "Enter, Nina Elric."

Nina swallowed hard and stepped into the darkened room. The doors swung shut silently behind her, and for a moment her heart beat faster as the darkness closed around her, blocking her senses and disorienting her. Then a bright spotlight snapped on, revealing a spindly golden chair standing in the middle of the room.

"Sit, Nina Elric," the voice said again.

Nina squared her shoulders and crossed the distance to the chair, her footsteps echoing hollowly in the darkness. She tried to remain confident as she perched herself gingerly on the small, uncomfortable seat. The gold bars of the seat dug into her, but she forced herself not to fidget. Her eyes adjusted somewhat to the darkness; she could see the vague outlines of people sitting behind a long desk in front of her. The one directly across from her leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, and the light seeping from the edge of the spotlight revealed him to be the Fuhrer.

Nina's nose itched again, but she forced herself to remain still by clenching her hands on her knees, letting the worn cloth soothe her.

"Now," came the deep, smooth voice of the Fuhrer. "Why do you want to become a State Alchemist?"

Nina's eyes darted along the indistinct shapes at the desk, the lumps of heads and shoulders, and she wondered whether her father was one of them. _He said he'd be there during my examination..._ Then her eyes returned to the Fuhrer, whose expression was inscrutable, and she swallowed down her nervousness. "Because..." she began; her voice wobbled a little, and she cleared her throat. "I want to be a State Alchemist who sides with the public," she said in a stronger voice. "I want to change the way the public views State Alchemists. I want to show people that we are not soulless dogs of the military."

She knew State Alchemists didn't have to be dogs. She knew it from personal experience with one of the most acclaimed State Alchemists of all: her father, the Full Metal Alchemist. But many people still thought of State Alchemists with disdain. She had heard angry whispers about her father, and that had hardened her resolve. Nina looked defiantly into the shadows where the Fuhrer sat; she wasn't sure if he would understand, but it didn't matter.

Then the Fuhrer slowly smiled.

* * *

The next week, Nina was much more confident during the practical exam, the third and final part of the State Alchemist Qualification Exam. For one thing, her sister Trisha was with her. For another, they had discussed this exam months in advance; from their father's stories, they knew what sort of things would catch people's attention, and they had decided exactly what to transmute.

According to plan, they waited for all the other applicants to go first. They had discussed this as well, and it had been Trisha who had suggested they go last so that their transmutation would be the most vivid in the examiners' eyes. Some of the other applicants possessed amazing alchemic skill; murmurs of appreciation passed through the small crowd every now and then as they performed particularly tricky transmutations. Trisha started to grow nervous, nibbling on a strand of her hair, but Nina was enjoying herself.

Finally, the last applicant performed his impeccable transmutation, and the two sisters were the only ones left. "Please, sir," Nina said, too excited to feel very self-conscious about speaking directly to the Fuhrer himself. "Can we both go at the same time?"

"It's not standard..." The Fuhrer rubbed his chin in thought, his dark eyes travelling from one upturned face to the other. Then he smiled. "Show me what you've got."

Nina grinned excitedly at Trisha, who was already rushing forward, chalk in hand. Nina hurried to join her, and they drew two large circles on the flagstones. Neither of them would have been able to complete this transmutation by herself; the energy demand was simply too much for one body to sustain. But together, with two simple circles working to take half the strain each, such a transmutation was possible.

The sisters had practiced their circles many times; Nina felt she could draw hers in her sleep. They had even gone so far as to learn each other's circle as well, just in case. The squares and triangles and squiggly Latin phrases intertwined seamlessly in their separate circles, and when they were finished the sisters drew identical swirls in the exact center of their circles. With a simple scritch-scratch, they created the marks that would connect the two circles together in the same transmutation. Nina knelt at the edge of her circle, and Trisha knelt by hers. They shared a look, then pressed their hands against the rough stone and smooth chalk lines.

The blue glow of the transmutation shone twice as bright as any of the other applicants' transmutations, and Nina watched in delight as the stone shot up from the ground, molding into the design she and Trisha had outlined with their circles. The familiar rush of excitement flowed through her as she felt the power running through her whole body, tickling her nerves with sparks of electricity. The fizz and hiss of electricity filled her ears as the smell of steam and that curious unidentifiable scent that followed every transmutation filled her nostrils.

Finally, the glow subsided and the transmutation was over. Nina got to her feet, wiping the thin layer of sweat off her forehead, and looked up happily at their creation. It was a complex fountain of water with stone statues of angels pouring water from jugs of varying sizes. The fountain was enormous, every statue was life-size, and there were twelve angels in all, each in a different pose. On closer inspection, one could see that the stone pillar erupting from the very center also turned the fountain into a gigantic sundial. Even the rival candidates had to murmur in appreciation for such a work of art, and Nina grinned at her little sister around the heels of the nearest angel as the clear water slapped happily into the basin of the fountain.

Then Nina turned to see what the examiners would say. Some of them spoke to each other in low tones, and the Fuhrer cast his eye up and down the fountain, taking in each detail critically with a little frown. A stab of worry shot through Nina's heart. Was it not good enough? Maybe it was too fancy; maybe smooth precision was more what they were looking for, not flamboyant elaboration. This _was,_ after all, the military. Then her eyes fell on her father, who couldn't seem to keep himself from grinning broadly. His golden eyes shone with pride as he looked back at his daughters, and Nina's heart lifted.

* * *

"'We give the name Cornerstone to thee, Trisha Elric, in the name of the Fuhrer Roy Mustang,'" Trisha read for the third time that day as the sisters strode down the street together. "Isn't it awesome, Sis? We're State Alchemists at last!"

Nina just smiled; her happiness was so great that she couldn't even talk about it. She had been dreaming of this day for years, almost as long as she could remember. Ever since she understood the meaning of a State Alchemist, she had wanted to be one, to be like her father. And now their goal was reached, after years and years of studying and practice. She looked down at her own certificate, a simple block of text printed on surprisingly cheap paper emblazoned with the seal of the military and signed by the Fuhrer's own hand, which announced that her new name was Solid Stone. She liked the sound of it; it spoke of strength and determination, and made her sound so much more than simply a seventeen-year-old girl with high ambitions.

The Elric sisters had received word that they were under the direct command of Lieutenant Colonel Maes Mustang, the Fuhrer's own son. Nina had heard the gossip that Mustang had used his heritage as a means to gain such a high position in so short a time, but her father had told her that he could easily have done so on his own merit. Nina was immensely flattered that the superior officer she would be working under was so skilled.

The sisters passed a newspaper stand, and the large headlines caught Nina's eye: _Sect Riot, 5 Killed; Fuhrer Mustang Delivers Response to Sect Threats; Hunley Continues to Evade Arrest._ A cold shiver ran down her spine, dimming the happy euphoria of the morning. The Sect again. When would they ever give up?

Nina wrenched her mind away from her worries. Not even the Sect was going to ruin this day for her. "What do you think the Lieutenant Colonel will be like?" she asked again, to give her mind something else to focus on. She and her sister climbed the wide white steps to the main entrance of the Central Military Headquarters and passed under the thick marble pillars to the giant revolving doors.

Trisha rolled her eyes. "For the fifth time, he'll probably be nice or something."

Nina frowned. "Are you sure? Just 'cause his dad and our dad are old buddies doesn't mean he won't be strict. This is the _military_, Trish. And we've never even met the guy, even if he is the son of Dad's friend!"

"Well, one way or another, we'll find out soon, I guess," Trisha replied impatiently, pushing through the doors. Nina quickly followed, but all thought of continuing the conversation faded from her mind when she saw the entry hall. Black and white tiles coated the floor, so shiny she could see her reflection in them. A fountain stood in the middle of the hall, reminding Nina strongly of the one she and Trisha had made, though this one was simple and unadorned. Hallways and doors opened on all sides, and twin staircases rose up against the far wall. There were more pillars holding up the vast ceiling, and off to one side stood a polished black desk with a small sign reading 'Information' in a simple typed script. Many men (and a few women) strode purposefully to and fro about the hall, some carrying folders or books under their arms, and all of them dressed in military blue. The tinkling of the fountain mingled with dozens of sharp, echoing footsteps and the indistinct babble of distant conversations. Everything looked strict, efficient, and business-like. Swallowing down her nervousness, Nina cautiously approached the information desk and asked for directions to Lieutenant Colonel Mustang's office.

The nervous knot of Nina's stomach twisted tighter and tighter as they approached the office, passing through several halls and climbing a few staircases, but Trisha seemed perfectly tranquil by contrast. Nina wondered how she could be so calm. _Traitor,_ she thought darkly. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of emotions; one moment she was so excited she could scarcely contain herself, and the next she was so nervous it felt like a stomachache. She wondered whether she would feel this way all through her new career. All such thoughts fled her mind at top speed, however, when she looked up to find that they were in a green-tiled hallway, directly in front of the door that bore a small plaque reading, 'Maes Mustang, Lt. Col.' Her knotted stomach tightened even more; she wondered if she was going to be sick. She wiggled her nose a little.

"Well?" Trisha suddenly hissed, cutting into her sister's thoughts. "Aren't you going to knock?"

"_You_ knock, if you're so keen to do it!" Nina retorted fiercely in a whisper.

"What?! Why do I have to? You always make me do everything you don't want to do yourself! Stop bullying!"

"Bullying?!" Nina's voice rose slightly. "Who's bullying? Stop being a pest, Trisha! _You_ knock!"

The sisters would have continued this whispered argument, had the door in question not opened just then with a little squeak. A tall man stepped into the hallway, looking over his shoulder and calling into the office, "Got it!" Before he had time to turn around, before the sisters could step out of the way, he ran right into them and sent them crashing to the floor.

"Oops!" the man cried, helping them to their feet. "Really sorry about that, I wasn't looking where-"

"Lieutenant Colonel Mustang!" both sisters cried in unison, snapping to attention. "Nina and Trisha Elric, reporting for duty, sir!"

"Woah." The man held up his hands defensively and took a step back. "I'm not the Lieutenant Colonel, I'm just-"

"You're not?" Nina let out a breath, not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved. Relaxing again, she took a closer look at the man before her. He was at least six feet tall, his dirty-blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail, his light blue eyes widening with surprise as he saw how young they were. She thought he looked a little confused to see them wearing military uniforms.

"Did you say Elric?" he asked, the surprise leaking into his voice. "So you're the new recruits, then? The State Alchemists?" When they nodded, he saluted with a grin. "Then I guess I'll have to call you 'ma'am' now, won't I?"

"Huh? Why?" Trisha asked.

"State Alchemists are automatically given the rank of Major, remember?" Nina said quickly before turning back to the man. "So where's Lieutenant Colonel Mustang? We're supposed to report."

"Right through here," he replied, opening the door wide and stepping back so they could enter first.

Nina stepped through and found herself in a plain, white-walled office, neither very large nor very fancy, and for some reason this surprised her. She realized she had been expecting banners on the walls, lush carpeting on the floors, expensive leather-covered chairs, but that was her father's description of the Fuhrer's office. This room had a large map of Amestris on one wall instead of a silk banner, bare linoleum instead of soft wool, and plain, hard-looking wooden chairs set around a long, bare wooden table that served as desks for the men seated there. The smell of ink, pencil shavings, and something that might have been tea assaulted her. It was an almost cozy smell.

The tall, blond-haired man who had bumped into the sisters now closed the door behind them and said to the room at large, "The Elrics are here."

The three men seated at the table murmured in interest and got to their feet with a scraping of chair legs. Nina felt very small as she looked up at them.

"The name's Dirk," the man who had announced them said with a smile. "Lieutenant Anthony Dirk." Turning to the man seated on the left side of the table, he added, "This is Lieutenant Fuse."

Fuse saluted in greeting, and Nina noted dark rings under his eyes, as though it had been a long time since he had had a full night's sleep. His dark, wiry hair was a little unkempt, his blue uniform slightly crumpled, as though he had fallen asleep at his desk and hastily tried to make himself presentable. Even as he saluted with his right hand, his left was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Hello," he said awkwardly with a swift, almost nervous smile.

"And Sergeant Bones." Dirk gestured towards the man on the right side of the table, who saluted, then stepped forward to shake their hands.

Bones's wide hand closed about Nina's, crushing it in a firm handshake. Nina looked up at the large man as he shook her hand solemnly, and he met her gaze with two small eyes so dark they almost seemed black. Bones was a broad-shouldered man, his muscles evident even under his loose uniform, his square jaw locked as tightly as if he had lost the key and never intended to find it. His dark brown hair had been cut short in a standard military crew cut. Then Nina caught a whiff of something on his clothes...lilac, she thought, and blinked with surprise.

Before she could even register this contrast, Bones turned to shake Trisha's hand and Nina looked over Bones's shoulder to the third man, the one who had been sitting at the head of the table. Nina drew in her breath sharply and saluted again. This time, she knew it was indeed Lieutenant Colonel Maes Mustang; there was no doubt about it. She had seen the Fuhrer in the exam, and this man was merely the younger equivalent of him, with a few slight differences. Maes Mustang's face was rounder, his nose smaller, his ears a little more prominent. His jet-black hair was just messy enough to give him a dashing, adventurous look without making him seem as though he had just woken up, like Fuse did. All these features together might have given one the impression of a carefree, lighthearted young man, had it not been for his sharp chestnut-brown eyes. They seemed to pierce Nina right through, examining her inside and out, and she was sure her pockets were hanging out, or one of the buckles on her new military uniform had come undone.

Suppressing the urge to smooth down her close-cropped hair or wipe her sweaty palms on her thighs, she said again, "Nina Elric reporting for duty, sir." Her nose began to itch so fiercely it was all she could do not to scratch it.

Trisha hastily saluted as well, but the words she murmured were lost on Nina's ears as she continued to stare at her commanding officer. Her stomach, which had loosened its knots somewhat in greeting her fellows, now strangled itself in a hopeless tangle and made odd flip-flops, as though trying to leap out of her throat.

Then a smile split the Lieutenant Colonel's face, and Nina felt as though her stomach had simply evaporated; she felt almost giddy, as if all her insides had vanished. "The Elric sisters," Mustang said, his strong voice laced with an almost musical grace, like the toll of a bell, only much gentler. "So you are the daughters of the famed Full Metal Alchemist." He saluted them, allowing them to lower their arms again, and his face grew serious. "I'll have you know that I'm expecting great things from you two. I demand unwavering loyalty and respect from my subordinates, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" the sisters cried together.

"If you disappoint me, you will be instantly transferred. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!"

The smile flitted briefly across his face again. "At the same time, my father has often told me that one's subordinates should be one's best friends. With that in mind: Welcome, and please have a seat."

He gestured towards two empty seats on the left-hand side of the table, and Nina sat down, feeling a little overwhelmed. She discovered, as the men found their seats as well, that she sat between Trisha and Fuse, who gave her a brief smile before returning to the mess of papers on the table before him. Nina looked up at Mustang, who suddenly stood up again. He clicked his tongue in irritation, glancing up at the clock hanging above the door. "I completely forgot; I'm due in the General's office. Dirk!"

Dirk immediately straightened in his chair. "Sir?"

"Give the Elrics their first assignment. And I expect those papers waiting for me when I come back! Bones – carry on. Fuse...get some sleep." With that, he swept from the office, leaving Fuse looking irritated, Dirk frowning glumly, and Bones minding his own business, scratching away with his pen and completely ignoring everyone else.

"Get some sleep..." Nina heard Fuse mutter to himself. "How on earth am I supposed to sleep when he demands..." His voice faded away in a sudden yawn.

"What's our first assignment?" Trisha asked eagerly, standing up. "Remember Dad's first assignment, Sis?"

"The Youswell coal mine!" Nina stood up as well, the excitement of being a State Alchemist returning to her full-force. The tale of how her father had been sent to the Youswell coal mine several days after being accepted as a State Alchemist, and how he had liberated the people there by tricking the corrupt lieutenant in charge to sell the people the deed to the mine, had always been a favorite of hers. Vivid images arose in her mind, images of herself and Trisha charging forth to liberate those under oppression, to show the world that State Alchemists actually followed their motto _Be thou for the people_. She turned to Dirk as well. "Yeah! What's our first assignment?"

The next moment, a veritable mountain of paperwork landed in her arms. Dirk, grinning down at her, announced, "First assignment: file these records. And you," he turned to Trisha, who gaped open-mouthed at her sister. "Take these reference books back to the Central Library, First Branch." A teetering stack of books cascaded into Trisha's arms. "And here's a list of materials Fuse needs from there as well." He stuffed a long list into Trisha's hand and sat back down, oblivious to the stunned and outraged expressions on the sisters' faces. "Oh, and get me some tea while you're at it."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_One day, their father came to them and said, "Take this food to your mother, for she is not feeling well." So they took the food he had given them – milk and bread, as well as a little cheese and butter – and set off for their mother's house. Now the path to their mother's house ran through a forest where, it was rumored, wolves lived and preyed on travellers. The sisters, however, did not know what dangerous creatures wolves could be._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

"I can't believe _State Alchemists_ are being sent on errands!" Trisha exploded as the Elric sisters walked the half-mile from their hotel to the Headquarters, joining the streams of businessmen hurrying along the streets. It had already been a week since they had been accepted, and their first day seemed to be the model for the course their lives would take. "'Trisha, file these papers!'" Trisha imitated Dirk's voice comically. "'Nina, bring me some tea!'"

Nina wasn't really listening; she was much too busy reliving a glorious moment from the evening before. She and Trisha had been preparing to leave for their hotel (their father absolutely forbade them to lodge in the dorms with all the men), and Lieutenant Colonel Mustang had looked up from a report he was reading. "Goodnight, Nina...Trisha." He had smiled that dashing smile of his, and it had been all Nina could do to murmur something in reply.

"Okay, stop right there!"

"Huh?" Nina nearly ran into Trisha, who had placed herself in Nina's path, hands on hips.

Trisha's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Something's fishy. Right about now, you'd be talking over me, saying 'We oughta complain' or something, but you're not even listening! And it's not just now, either! You've been like this the past week! What's gotten into you?!"

"Huh? Oh...I dunno," Nina said uncomfortably, not meeting her sister's eyes. "I've been...thinking about other things, I guess."

Trisha's confused expression melted away into a knowing grin with alarming speed. "Ooh. A certain...'someone,' maybe?"

"What're you talking about?" Nina asked irritably, pushing past Trisha to continue on her way. Beneath her irritation was a fear of discovery; she could never hide much from her younger sister.

"Ha! I was right!" Trisha crowed in triumph, though Nina couldn't see how her words had incriminated her. Trisha slung her arm through Nina's and asked conspiratorially, "Is it Lieutenant Colonel Mustang?"

"What?!" Nina wrenched her arm away. "What are you talking about?! How could I like the Lieutenant Colonel? Trisha, he's got to be at least five years older than me, and besides-"

"You might want to pipe down," Trisha said with a smug expression. "We're at HQ now, you know."

Nina clapped her mouth shut, fuming inwardly as they passed through the massive entry hall and the green-tiled hallways. _The Lieutenant Colonel,_ she thought. _Me, flipping out over my own superior officer! Really, the nerve!_ And then she thought her legs would give out under her: Lieutenant Colonel Mustang himself strode purposefully down the hallway right towards them.

A smile broke out on his face when he saw them. "Hello Nina...Trisha," he said in that wonderful baritone voice of his. She caught a whiff of his cologne as he passed.

"Good morning!" Trisha called out cheerily with a wave.

Nina managed to gurgle out, "Hi, sir," before Mustang disappeared through the doorway into his office. As soon as he was gone, Nina let out a low moan and dropped her head onto Trisha's shoulder. It was soft, and smelled comforting, but Nina barely noticed. "I've got it real bad, Trish!" she groaned. "He's just so...so..."

"Cute?" Trisha suggested. "Handsome? Dashing and debonair?"

"Nice," Nina breathed dreamily, thinking of all the times she had seen him treat his subordinates as equals, as friends. She had never met anyone quite like him before.

"Yup," Trisha said grimly. "You've got it bad, all right."

* * *

"So what's our mission this afternoon?" Trisha asked Fuse glumly later that day, as the three of them trooped back to the office after lunch. "More paperwork?"

"No," Fuse replied with a quick smile as they walked through the hallways to the office together, the tinkling of the fountain fading away behind them. He looked even sleepier than normal, as though he had stayed up all night, and as he walked he fiddled with his fraying shirt sleeve. "Here's where life in the military gets interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"I've heard we're being sent to suppress a riot that's threatening to form on Sixth Street. The Sect, you know."

Nina felt a sliver of dread trickle down her back. Even in the remote village of Risenpool, there had been news of the Sect, a group of violent protesters who often caused riots. "Why do those Sect guys cause so much trouble?" she wondered aloud. "I mean, what's their problem?"

"Well, you have to understand that not everyone likes the way this country's run," Fuse replied with a frown as they started up the final staircase. "A military state can cause a lot of problems for the people, you know – getting caught up in wars and everything."

"But the Fuhrer does his best to maintain peace!" Trisha protested.

"Yes, well..." Fuse seemed to be searching for the right words. "It started when the last Fuhrer was assassinated. I suppose you weren't even born then, so you wouldn't understand. Everything was in turmoil; it seemed that every officer in the military was fighting for the top position. And while they fought, anarchy reigned on the streets." Fuse wore an ugly expression as his gaze turned inward on his memories. "Groups who protested against the infighting in the military became more and more violent, till ordinary civilians were under threat. Innocents – women, children – were being slaughtered. Finally the present Fuhrer managed to gain the top position and stabilize things, but some saw this as just another form of oppression. That was when the Sect formed. They continue to fight, even though public opinion has since turned against them."

Fuse smiled a little, suppressing a yawn with difficulty as they reached the top of the stairs. "You've got to hand it to them: They've got a lot of guts."

Nina shook her head. She still couldn't see how anyone could think they would make the country better by fighting the government. "And we're going to suppress them?" she asked, feeling her stomach tighten as it had on her first day of work.

Fuse nodded and glanced at Trisha, whose face was pale. "Usually, we're just trying to capture the rioters. Imprison them, you know. There are some casualties, but the Fuhrer's made it plain he wants none outside of accidents, if possible." He gave them a half-smile as he paused before pushing open the door to the office. "And our Lieutenant Colonel always keeps an eye on us, so don't worry."

Inside the office, the men were bustling about with preparations. Nina and Trisha stood off to the side near the coat rack, not sure what to do or how to help. Nina hugged her red coat against her body, thinking of her father and all the adventures he had had in his time. All of a sudden, she wondered why she had ever wanted to become a State Alchemist. The thought that she would be risking her life chilled her to the bone, and she didn't feel like the daughter of the Full Metal Alchemist at all. She scratched her nose impulsively.

"Hey, Sis," Trisha spoke up, low enough so that the men couldn't hear. She absently twirled her hair around her finger. "You remember that story Dad used to tell us? The one where he caught those bandits on the train to Central?"

Nina nodded; it had been one of her favorites.

"Do you remember why he and Uncle Al did all that stuff, walking on top of the train and risking their lives and everything? It was because of that girl they met. It was to protect her."

Nina looked at her little sister in confusion. "What are you getting at?"

Trisha smiled, her blue eyes warm and reassuring. "We can't back down now. We're going out there today to protect little girls like that."

"Quite a profound statement," a voice suddenly said behind them.

Nina whirled around and felt her stomach vanish like fog on a sunny day. "L-Lieutenant Colonel!" she gasped, saluting sloppily.

Mustang returned the salute absently, still looking at Trisha. "You know, I feel precisely the same way about this. The reason we're fighting the Sect is to protect civilians." He smiled at Trisha, and Nina found herself suddenly envying her little sister's slightly wavy golden hair that spilled over her shoulders, catching the light attractively.

But Mustang was already turning to the other soldiers in the room. "Ready, men?" he asked, his face taking on a very serious expression.

"Yes, sir!" all five of them cried as one.

* * *

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang led his subordinates through the streets, which were chillingly empty of civilians. Nina wondered if everyone who didn't support the Sect had gotten wind of the impending riot and fled the streets. Whatever was the case, the overcast sky molded with the concrete of the buildings and sidewalks till it seemed the whole world must be grey, and the six of them were the only spots of color. The smell of damp was in the air, suggesting that it was going to rain soon, and a cool breeze swirled around them, making Nina shiver. They could hear the faint sound of shouting in the distance, but it was too far away to guess at how many people there were.

When they had nearly reached Sixth Street, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang began giving out orders. "Now, there are only supposed to be around ten men, right Fuse?"

"Yes, sir," Fuse replied, hastily setting up a portable radio in a secluded alley off of Sixth Street, setting it down between two piles of garbage. "We've received reports of them breaking windows, making a racket, trying to rile up a crowd. We have to stop them before it turns into a full-scale riot."

Mustang nodded curtly. "They'll be using guerilla tactics, so it's business as usual. Dirk, Bones, go in and lure them out to this intersection."

"A trap?" Dirk asked, frowning a little.

"The Elric sisters will see to that," Mustang replied, smirking slightly as he looked at Nina and Trisha's surprised faces. "Show us what two State Alchemists can do."

_This is it,_ Nina realized. _Now we can prove to them that we can do more than just run errands._ Then she noticed the Lieutenant Colonel moving farther back into the alley, and asked in surprise, "Sir? Where are you going?"

Mustang turned briefly to flash his smile at her. "Every hawk needs a branch to perch on." With that, he was gone.

"Come on, Solid Stone," Trisha said playfully, nudging her sister in the ribs. "We'd better get in position to spring the trap."

Dirk peeked around the corner of the alleyway as Bones cocked his gun with a surprisingly loud click. To Nina's surprise, Bones looked up at her and grinned, his small dark eyes sparkling. "We're up against the guerillas," he said, glancing around at his fellows. "Let's give 'em bananas, boys."

Dirk gave the signal, and he and Bones rushed out of the alleyway, their footsteps receding into the distance as Dirk's light hair and Bones's large bulk disappeared around the corner. The sound of shouting suddenly grew louder and fiercer, and suddenly Nina realized that she should be formulating a plan for how to trap the protesters. "Hey, Trish," she hissed. "How're we gonna-?"

Suddenly Nina realized that Trisha wasn't at her side anymore. "Trisha!" she yelped as she saw her younger sister darting across the wide street. Trisha made a perfect target, with her light hair and red coat sailing out behind her, and the shouts drew nearer by the second. Gunshots began to slice the air as well. When Trisha reached the other side of the street, Nina mouthed _Stupid_ at her and furiously pulled out her brand-new piece of chalk. She understood what Trisha was planning, but it had been a foolish risk to dart out like that in plain view.

Still fuming, Nina finished her circle in the mouth of the alley. Trisha had managed to find cover directly opposite, and hastily drew a circle complementary to Nina's. As they started on their second circles next to the first ones, the shouting grew even nearer, and a crowd came rushing into view. Nina gasped; there were _many_ more protesters than the number Lieutenant Colonel Mustang had given. She hoped the trap would still work.

Dirk darted past the mouth of the alleyway, diving for cover behind a parked car and clutching his bloody arm. He seemed to have lost his rifle, but as Nina watched in shock he pulled out a pistol and fired several shots from behind the car. She could see Bones farther down the street, firing from behind the inadequate cover of several garbage cans. Gunshots pinged and whizzed past like tiny birds of prey, and the cries of the protesters who had been hit were like the squeals of mice as a hawk swooped down on them. Then Nina wrenched her gaze back to the street teeming with Sect members, and slammed her palms onto the transmutation circle she had drawn. Blue light shone around her as a stone wall materialized out of the ground, meeting the matching wall Trisha was making. The stone met seamlessly with a resounding boom in front of Dirk and Bones, cutting the protesters off from them.

Even as the Sect members stared up at the wall in confusion, Nina activated her second circle. She saw the answering blue light from Trisha's transmutation on the other side of the street, and a huge iron cage formed around the protesters, crackling into existence. One man towards the back, however, managed to leap out of the way before the cage had fully materialized, and he pointed a pistol where he had seen the blue light of the transmutation. Nina's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the tiny barrel for one prolonged moment.

Before her mind had time to realize that she was in danger of being killed, a tiny something hit the man's arm and he dropped the pistol with a cry of pain. Even as he clutched his arm and whirled around, searching the empty street for a sign of his attacker, another silent shot hit his leg. The man fell to the ground with another cry, and suddenly Trisha was there, transmuting a gigantic stone hand that closed about the man, immobilizing him.

"Sis!" she called out, rushing over to Nina, her face white with terror. "You okay?"

Nina nodded absently, looking around to find her savior. Trisha grinned shakily and pointed upwards; when Nina looked up, she saw Lieutenant Colonel Mustang squatting on the roof of the building next to her, holding a silenced rifle. He saluted her, then disappeared from sight to return to the ground. Nina thought she might just melt into a puddle of adoration.

* * *

Bones placidly bandaged Dirk's wound as they sat in the entrance to the alleyway, his large fingers handling his comrade's arm gingerly. "You wanted us to lure the rioters into a trap," Bones rumbled calmly. "With all due respect, sir, we were the ones who were ambushed."

"Yeah," Dirk said, carefully pulling his jacket back on once Bones had tied off the bandage. "It was just a bunch of teenagers at first, but then more and more kept on coming, like they were waiting for us. Lucky for us, they don't know how to deal with two State Alchemists." He grinned at the State Alchemists in question.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang stood in the alleyway, arms crossed, glaring into space. "Fuse!" he barked.

"Yes, sir?"

"How could this happen? The military's better than this! How could our scouts fail to notice that they were setting up an ambush? The Sect is hardly known for subtlety or well-trained fighters!"

Fuse's eyes darted around nervously, almost as if he was searching for a way out. "Well...I've thought of an explanation, but...I hesitate to say it, sir..."

"Say it," Mustang snapped, glaring at the protesters, who were being led away by men in the blue military uniform. The grumbles of the Sect members, and the sharp commands of the officers, added uneasy background noise to their conversation.

Fuse paused, biting his lip as though trying to find a way to make his words as gentle as possible. "Maybe..." he said at last. "There _might_ be a...a traitor. Someone who deliberately gave the wrong information, hoping we would be overwhelmed." Fuse stopped there, looking up worriedly at the Lieutenant Colonel.

Nina looked up at him as well from where she sat on an empty crate next to Trisha. Mustang's face had fallen completely still, all anger suddenly gone beneath an expressionless mask. "If there is..." he said softly, his eyes following the man who had nearly shot Nina. "He will be sorry he ever deceived me."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_Sure enough, a wolf met the two sisters on the road. "Where are you going, Red Riding Hoods?" it asked._

_"How do you know our names?" Little Red Riding Hood asked._

_"Why, everyone has heard of you," the wolf replied. "Your riding hoods are very beautiful."_

_Flattered, Red Riding Hood said, "We are going to see our mother, who is feeling poorly."_

_"Does she live far away?" the wolf inquired._

_"Not far," Little Red Riding Hood answered. "Her house is the first one at the end of the forest."_

_"Then I shall take the path that forks off this one," the wolf proposed, "and go to your mother's house as well, and we shall have a feast."_

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

Nina sat in a hard wooden chair at the long conference table, listening half-heartedly to General Gladstone explain the next phase of the suppression of the Sect. Gladstone, a barrel-chested man with a booming voice and a white walrus mustache, gestured authoritatively with a thick finger at a map of Central laid out before him on the table. Mustang and a few other Lieutenant Colonels stood around him, examining the map and listening to him with rapt attention, but all of their subordinates were seated too far down the table to see anything but a bunch of blue-clad backs silhouetted against the wide windows that spanned the far wall. The other walls were covered with detailed maps of Central City, dotted with red and blue pins that marked the positions of Sect and military forces. The room smelled of coffee and too many bodies packed into too small of a space.

"Now, Jones," Gladstone boomed, "you will take your men..."

Nina let her mind wander with her gaze; both roved down the table, passing over each soldier seated there. Some listened intently, others stared into space. Fuse looked in danger of nodding off, and a young man sitting next to him seemed to be playing tic-tac-toe with himself on one of the many blank pads of paper provided. Trisha caught Nina's eye and surreptitiously faked a yawn; Nina grinned back at her. It wasn't that Gladstone was a particularly boring man, but Nina didn't understand why he couldn't just brief the Lieutenant Colonels and let all the subordinates do something more worthwhile. Like…paperwork….

"Mustang," Gladstone said, and Nina perked up to listen. "You and Farland will join forces and capture the twelve Sect members, then bring them in for questioning. We've managed to intercept a message to the Sect leader with the information that they'll be headed through the sewers. You will intercept them…here." He pointed to a certain place on the map, which Mustang looked at carefully.

Nina looked back at the others, and found that they had all straightened in their seats as well. Fuse fiddled almost frantically with the sleeves of his military jacket; Dirk blinked in rapid succession as he watched Gladstone; Bones furrowed his brow in concentration. Then Nina looked over at Trisha and shared an excited look with her. Nina hoped the days of running errands and getting tea for Dirk were gone for good.

After several more minutes, General Gladstone rolled up the map and said, "That will be all."

A chorus of chairs scraping against the floor echoed through the conference room, and everyone saluted the General before filing out the door. Nina stood at Trisha's side, waiting for Lieutenant Colonel Mustang to join his subordinates, and watched the river of blue uniforms course past her.

"So!" The voice boomed very close by; Nina turned around quickly and saluted again as she saw Gladstone standing right behind her. "The Solid Stone Alchemist, I presume?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Nina stammered, her voice sounding thin and weak compared to his.

"And the Cornerstone Alchemist," Gladstone added, nodding to Trisha. "I've heard much about you from your father, of course. Being the daughters of the Full Metal Alchemist, I'm sure we can expect many great things from the two of you. Good luck." He gave them a smile and a wink, then moved off.

"Th-Thank you, sir!" Nina managed to gasp at his back. When she turned to exchange a thrilled look with Trisha, another voice called out her name.

"Ah, so you must be Nina and Trisha Elric!" said a woman from the other side of the table as she walked briskly towards them. She was a pretty woman, with grey eyes and curly brown hair pulled into a ponytail to keep it out of her face. She looked just as thrilled as Nina and Trisha had. "The daughters of the Full Metal Alchemist! I never imagined I would actually get to meet you, let alone work alongside you!" Noting their confused expressions, she smiled and held out her hand. "Lieutenant Colonel Lydia Farland."

Nina shook Lydia Farland's hand numbly, and before she could find something to say Farland's subordinates crowded around the two sisters.

"The Full Metal Alchemist's daughters!"

"It's an honor to meet you, an honor!"

"Wow, you must be very skilled to become State Alchemists at that age!"

A few minutes later, as Nina and Trisha followed the others back to the office, Nina couldn't help smiling to herself. This was more like what she had imagined being a State Alchemist would feel like.

"That Lydia Farland," Lieutenant Colonel Mustang remarked lightly to his subordinates as they made their way down the hall to the steady tromp of their boots against the floor, "she's rather pretty, isn't she?"

A slight twinge of jealousy stabbed Nina's heart, but almost as soon as Mustang's words left his mouth, the other three men let out a chorus of groans.

"Not again!"

"Really, sir, for your own sake…."

"You remember what happened last time – when you tried to hit on Elysia Hughes!"

"All right, all right, I get the point!" Mustang snapped irritably, a slight flush mounting his cheeks. "I was just saying…."

Trisha raised her eyebrows at Nina. "What was that all about?" she asked Dirk.

Dirk rolled his eyes. "The Lieutenant Colonel. His aim might be top-notch, but he has yet to hit Cupid's arrow on target." Ignoring the murderous look Mustang shot at him, he continued, "Poor man. He has the worst luck with girls. Can't even get one date."

"They say it's his arrogance," Fuse put in, nodding wisely.

"How would _you_ know?" Dirk asked in surprise.

Fuse smiled a little nervously, glancing over at Mustang as though afraid for his own safety. "I overheard a couple of the librarians once. You know, those pretty ones that the Lieutenant Colonel tried to ask out at the same time?"

Bones snickered. Nina looked up at him in surprise, but his face was solemn as though the large, stern-faced man had never laughed once in his life.

"Anyway," Fuse went on, "they said he would only talk about himself, and whenever they tried to say something about themselves, he changed the subject."

"What?" Mustang cried defensively, pushing open the door to their office. A whiff of tea and pencil shavings accosted them as they entered. "My life is _infinitely_ more interesting than theirs! I'm in the military, but all _they_ ever talk about is their hair or their friend who's about to get married!"

Dirk clicked his tongue and shook his head reprovingly. "Sir, I'm sorry to say it, but that's _exactly_ why you can't get a date. I speak from experience: Let them do the talking. Woman's favorite hobby, you know." Then he noticed Nina and Trisha standing on either side of him, glaring. "Oops!"

Everyone laughed, even Mustang, who still wore a disgruntled expression. What with the good-natured jibes that began to pass back and forth between the men, Nina found it hard to believe that they would soon be risking their lives on another mission.

* * *

Nina stepped off the last rung of the ladder with a splash, and grimaced as she tried not to think about just what was swirling around her thick, military-issue boots. The smell was bad enough. She flicked on the flashlight as Trisha clambered down and turned on hers; the two of them looked around the blank stretch of tunnel as the others climbed down behind them, their boots clanging noisily onto each rung of the ladder. The darkness of the sewers closed around the vulnerable beam of Nina's flashlight like fingers around a slender throat. Everything was invisible outside the boundaries of the light. Invisible and cold. Three more flashlights clicked on, and Nina gratefully turned from the darkness to await orders.

With Farland's subordinates added to their ranks, they were twelve strong now, and Nina felt considerably more confident about this encounter with the Sect. She clenched her hand firmly around her stick of chalk, poised to draw a circle at the first sign of danger. Farland looked around at them all, saw they were ready, and said firmly, "Okay men, let's split up."

"Okay men, let's stick together," Mustang said at the same time.

There was an awkward moment of silence, then Farland pursed her lips and said, "If we split up, we can corner those Sect slugs from both ways in a pincer movement."

"And if we split up," Mustang added, "the 'Sect slugs' will outnumber each group two to one. Unless our timing is impeccable, we will be slaughtered."

Farland glared at him for a moment, then snapped acidly, "Very well. We'll keep together…since you're the Fuhrer's son."

"That's not-"

"Let's move out," Farland interrupted, starting forward and motioning her subordinates into position.

Mustang sighed and nodded to his own subordinates, and they fell in beside Farland's group.

As they made their way through the sewers, Nina grew increasingly conscious of their splashing footsteps that echoed wetly down the dark tunnel. She wondered if the Sect members had heard them and were waiting in ambush, ready to leap out at them at any moment.

Or maybe their flashlights would give them away. Five soldiers carried flashlights to light their way: Nina, Trisha, Fuse, and two of Farland's subordinates. Even so, the darkness pressed against their little group, and Nina couldn't help glancing over her shoulder several times, feeling as though someone was watching her from the shadows behind. She shuddered and wrenched her eyes back to the front each time, reminding herself that she was supposed to be prepared for attack.

And all of a sudden, she didn't have time to be 'prepared' anymore. Before they were anywhere near their destination, someone shouted, and a group of men rushed into the beams of their flashlights. Soldiers and Sect members alike fired their guns, and Nina launched herself at the nearest wall. She couldn't draw a transmutation circle on the submerged floor, so instead she hastily inscribed one on the wall, activating it as she saw the answering blue light from the other wall. A stone wall closed off the tunnel behind the Sect members, trapping them. Nina saw Bones grab one of the Sect men's guns, his large muscles bulging as he wrenched the rifle out of the man's hands and jabbed him in the stomach with it.

Just as Nina started to rush forward and draw another circle, a blinding flash filled the tunnel. Nina threw up her arm to shield her eyes, but the piercing white light stabbed through her eyelids all the same, momentarily blinding her. Without sight, the confusion in the tunnel seemed even greater. There were gunshots, yells, splashes, and Nina was jostled so roughly that her chalk flew from her hand. The cacophony echoed around the sewer walls, till it sounded like a full-fledged battle.

"Aaaah!"

"What's going on?!"

"My eyes!"

"What are you-"

Footsteps sloshed and splashed away from them at a run, and then only silence remained.

After a few moments, Nina slowly lowered her arms. She couldn't see anything, not even the beam of a flashlight. "T-Trisha…?" she hoarsely asked the darkness.

"I'm here," Trisha's voice said directly to her left, lowered to a whisper. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Nina started to say, but then she heard other movements, people sloshing about in the water.

"Someone get a light in here," came a low voice that Nina could easily place as Mustang's. There was a splash, a fumbling sound, and then a flashlight turned on, pointing at the source of the voice. Mustang held his hand up to shield his eyes from the glare, squinting around in an attempt to assess the situation.

Nina felt something next to her foot, and reached down to discover that it was another flashlight. She turned it on, and in the added light she saw that all of her companions were there: Trisha, Mustang, Fuse, Dirk, and Bones. Farland and her subordinates were nowhere in sight, but at least Mustang's group was intact. They were all covered in grime, Bones had a nasty cut on his forehead, and Dirk was clutching the arm that had been wounded in their last skirmish with the Sect, but other than that everyone seemed to be unharmed. Nina let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding, but then Bones rumbled, "There are bodies here, sir."

Everyone hurried over to where Bones stood, and saw that there were indeed many bodies sprawled in and out of the water, all clothed in civilian garb. Nina quickly counted them: Twelve. Fuse and Dirk picked their way through the bodies, examining them. "All dead as doorknobs," Dirk announced, shaking his head.

"And…none of them are from Farland's group," Fuse added in a strange voice.

All eyes turned to Mustang, whose face had gone blank like the time Fuse had suggested the possibility of a traitor. "We were supposed to take them prisoner, not kill them," he said tightly. "They could have given us valuable information about the Sect." Suddenly he looked up at his subordinates sharply. "Did any of you fire?"

They all shook their heads, and Dirk added, "You know we wouldn't do that. And you can check our ammunition if you like, sir."

Mustang waved the suggestion away. "That won't be necessary. If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here."

Bones reached out to one of the immobile bodies and plucked a small object from its chest. Holding his red-stained fingers under the beam of Fuse's flashlight, he examined the tiny glint of metal that had dealt the killing blow. As he turned the bullet over and over, the light caught a tiny insignia engraved into the metal. Nina's nose tingled as she recognized it: the beast within the pentagram, the military's official seal. "Sir," Bones said cautiously, for once looking worried, "doesn't this mean-"

"Yes," Mustang said tersely, and Nina noticed that his hands were clenched tightly around his rifle. "Farland disobeyed orders and had them all killed."

For a moment, the silence was so loud that Nina wished someone had screamed instead. It would have been easier on the nerves as well as the ears. She didn't know what to think of this – a Lieutenant Colonel deliberately and blatantly disobeying orders – but she could see no other explanation of the evidence. Only soldiers had access to those bullets.

At last, Mustang broke the silence. "Let's get out of here, men. We need to get back to Headquarters immediately."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_They parted ways, the wolf hurrying down the road. The sisters, however, scattered to either side of the path, chasing butterflies and picking flowers for their mother._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

"But why would Lieutenant Colonel Farland disobey orders like that and kill the hostages?" Trisha asked, looking small and scared.

Nina shivered and pulled her red coat closer about her body. They had left the sewers hours ago, but the chill from those dark tunnels still hadn't worn off yet. They had changed clothes and showered the stink away, but it was as though the black shadows had clung to them all like burs, following them to Headquarters to hover over them like a stormcloud in their office. Nina couldn't help wondering when the cold rain would begin to fall. She looked around at the others seated around the table, and at Mustang, who paced restlessly from the map of Amestris to the coat rack and back again, his boots squeaking against the floor when he turned.

"Do you think…maybe she's a traitor for the Sect or something?" Dirk proposed, setting white mugs of tea in front of everyone. For once, he had gone to get it himself.

"No," Fuse suddenly spoke up. He had been very quiet ever since they had left the sewers, closing himself up in his own little world. Now he ran his pen through his fingers incessantly, looking nervous and excited at the same time. "That doesn't make sense. If she was in the Sect, why would she kill her fellows?"

"That's true," Dirk admitted, sighing and staring glumly into the dark liquid before him.

Bones placidly sipped his tea, his pinky slightly extended, then set it back down gingerly, as if afraid his large hands would shatter the cup if he squeezed too tightly. He folded his hands calmly before him, then looked directly at Mustang and said, "The Wolf Brigade."

Mustang stopped his pacing, brown eyes wide.

"What?" Nina asked in confusion, not understanding why Fuse and Dirk both inhaled sharply at those words. "What's the Wolf Brigade?"

"Haven't you heard the rumors?" Dirk asked in a hoarse whisper. "They say it's a top-secret organization within the military itself…and no one knows its motives or intentions – or even who the members are! – except for those in the Wolf Brigade and whoever commands them. Members could be dispersed all throughout the military, in every division! Why...there could be one in this very room.…"

Nina sneezed, breaking the ominous air in the room. She grinned apologetically; Trisha handed her a handkerchief, rolling her eyes.

Mustang smiled briefly, then turned to face all of them at once. "A little melodramatic perhaps, Dirk. It's never been confirmed that the Wolf Brigade even exists."

"But if it did?" Nina asked, a shiver running down her spine.

Mustang dropped into his chair at the head of the table, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "I'm not sure," he sighed.

"It all makes sense!" Dirk said earnestly, leaning forward. "Farland's in the Wolf Brigade; it's the only thing that can explain why an upstanding officer like her would disobey such clear orders like that. She had _other_ orders, from whoever commands the Wolf Brigade!"

Nina nodded; that seemed logical to her. "But why would they want to kill those Sect people?"

"Maybe…." Trisha spoke for the first time in a long while. "Maybe because they didn't want the military to interrogate them. They didn't want them to find out any more about the Sect."

"I thought we'd already decided they weren't traitors for the Sect," Fuse snapped, his pen spinning faster and faster in his hands.

Trisha shook her head, her blue eyes wide. "They're _not_ with the Sect. They want this conflict to go on, to-"

"To undermine the military," Nina breathed, catching on to what her sister was saying. "They killed those Sect people because they knew the Sect would retaliate, and then the military would be forced to continue fighting, and then people would start saying the military couldn't end the conflict, and..." Nina had to stop for breath; her heart was pounding as she looked around at the men, who all stared at her with wide eyes.

Mustang's face was white and stiff. He sat frozen in his seat for several moments, then stood up so abruptly his chair fell over backward with a crash. "We need to take this to the Fuhrer," he said in a deceptively calm voice. "Immediately. I don't know if you're right, Nina, but his very life could be in danger."

* * *

Nina and Trisha almost had to trot to keep up with the men who marched forward as fast as they could without breaking into a run. Panic ate at Nina's stomach. Would the government crumble from within? Would the Fuhrer be able to save it, or was this something not even he could stop? Surely, he would be able to do _something_. He had, after all, saved this country from despotism and destruction before. He had risen above the chaos after King Bradley died, and he had held the military – the entire _country_ – together in one of its darkest times. Surely, he could protect it this time as well? _But maybe we're too late,_ she realized. _Maybe there's nothing _anyone_ can do to stop this._ And what would they do then? They would have civil war on their hands. The whole country could fall apart, and hundreds might be killed. _That might be exaggerating it a bit, but we have to stop this before it goes too far._ She desperately scratched her itching nose.

Then Nina remembered something her father had once said about the Fuhrer: _The annoying thing about Roy Mustang is that you always end up trusting him, no matter what. And somehow, he always manages to see you through._ Nina decided she had to trust her father's testimony. What other hope did they have?

Before she had realized where they were, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang pushed open the heavy oak doors to the entryway of the Fuhrer's personal office and strode in quickly without waiting to be admitted. Nina barely had time to gape at the lush furnishings, the thick red carpeting, the enormous silk banners, when a middle-aged woman strode quickly towards them. This woman's smooth golden hair cascading over her shoulders, only just beginning to grey, did nothing to soften her sharp, precise features. Her blue uniform was immaculate, pressed and starched till there wasn't even the hint of a wrinkle, and the golden stars on her shoulders announced that she was a General. Then Nina saw the woman's chestnut-brown eyes, and remembered her father's descriptions. This was General Liza Mustang, the Fuhrer's wife and Maes Mustang's mother.

"Lieutenant Colonel Mustang!" the General barked in a precise yet melodious voice as she stopped directly in front of them, barring their way. "What is the meaning of this? The Fuhrer is at this moment drafting a very important letter to-"

"I must see the Fuhrer at once!" Lieutenant Colonel Mustang cried, his voice just as sharp as his mother's. "This is an emergency!"

He made to step around her towards the closed door ahead, but the General put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Maes."

Somehow, this made him stop at once, meeting her stern gaze and quickly looking away. "Mother…" he said softly, "his life could be in danger."

Her eyes narrowed. "What is this danger?"

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang's frown was stubborn as he said, "It should be for his ears alone."

"His ears are my ears, Maes. You of all people should know that." General Mustang looked into his eyes, so much like hers, and after a moment she sighed. "Very well, go in and speak to him; I can see that you won't be deterred. But leave your subordinates out here; they-"

"No. They're as much a part of this as I am."

"But, Maes…."

"They're coming with me," the Lieutenant Colonel said firmly, pushing past his mother. As Nina followed, she glanced over at General Mustang and saw a deeply concerned expression on her face.

The Lieutenant Colonel pushed open the door without knocking, and a voice said from the desk within, "Liza, how do you spell…. Oh."

Nina caught her breath as she filed in behind her commanding officer; for one thing, this office was even more magnificent than the last one; for another, she had never been so close to the Fuhrer before, not even in the State Alchemist Exam. She was struck again by the strong resemblance between father and son; Fuhrer Roy Mustang slowly got to his feet, facing his son over the polished desk, and it almost looked as though they were mirror images of each other, except for the lines aging the Fuhrer's face. His dark eyes slid over each of his son's subordinates, resting last of all upon Nina. Then he blinked and looked back at Lieutenant Colonel Mustang. "What's the meaning of this, Maes?"

"Father," the Lieutenant Colonel said, stepping forward and getting straight to the point, "I fear your life may be in danger."

The Fuhrer smirked. "My life happens to be in danger most days of the week, as you very well know. It's why I married my bodyguard."

"That's not what I mean." The Lieutenant Colonel seemed to be growing more anxious with every minute. "This is about the Wolf Brigade. We think they're trying to-"

"You know about the Brigade?" the Fuhrer asked sharply, whipping his gaze across all five of his son's subordinates again.

"I told you it existed!" Dirk hissed, apparently unable to keep his triumph in.

"Yes, we know about it," Lieutenant Colonel Mustang said urgently. "And we're here to warn you that there's a high chance they're trying to destroy the military!"

The Fuhrer tipped back his head and laughed; this was such an unexpected action that Lieutenant Colonel Mustang's jaw dropped, and he stared in consternation at his father. "The Wolf Brigade isn't trying to destroy the military!" the Fuhrer said with a chuckle. "Their commander is General Gladstone; a finer or more loyal man you'll never find. Treachery isn't even in his vocabulary." Seeing their disbelieving expressions, he explained, "The Wolf Brigade was designed to keep the anti-government groups in check without having to resort to declaring war on our own country. Yes," he said in answer to Trisha's gasp, his face growing grave once more. "It really was that bad. Things have gotten better, but the Sect still poses an immense threat. The Wolf Brigade is more influential than most realize; every member is highly trained, the best of the best, and in a way they are the ones who really keep the Sect from destroying the entire city. So you see, Maes? The Wolf Brigade isn't our enemy; it is our greatest weapon."

For a moment, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang looked about to protest, but then he hung his head and said, "Yes, sir."

"Very well then." The Fuhrer hesitated, and then his voice softened by a margin. "I tell you this because you are my son, and I trust you, but I would implore all of you to say nothing of this to anyone else. The reason the Wolf Brigade works is because it is secret." The Fuhrer saluted them, and everyone immediately snapped to attention.

Nina couldn't help but think that the Lieutenant Colonel looked rather disappointed that their theory had been disproved. As they returned to his office, she thought she heard him muttering something about 'trusting' and 'doesn't realize.' She wasn't sure how she felt about all this; she couldn't help suspecting General Gladstone a little, but she was relieved that the military seemed likely to remain intact for a little while longer, at least.

Then Dirk muttered, "Gladstone's pulling the wool over the Fuhrer's eyes," and Nina's mind was thrown into confusion and fear again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_The wolf came to the little cottage at the edge of the forest long before either of the sisters, and knocked on the front door. "Who is it?" asked the mother._

_"It is your daughter, Little Red Riding Hood."_

_"I am too weak to get up, dear," the mother said. "Lift the latch and open the door."_

_The wolf opened the door to the cottage, and pounced upon the woman in bed, ripping her into many pieces. Then the wolf took the mother's clothes and nightcap, and lay down in bed to wait for the Red Riding Hoods._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

No one sat next to the cloaked figure riding along in the train with them. This decision was hardly conscious for most of them, but some could feel the cold, nearly tangible aura surrounding that figure, as though it was not human at all, but a patch of deepest, darkest shadow, somehow detached from the rest of the darkness and sent airborne.

The person hidden within the shadows of the black cloak could not be more pleased to be without companions on this journey. Strangers could be oddly nosy at times, especially around someone travelling all alone. And it was much more important that the cloaked person perfect the strategy now, while there was time. _She will be easy to persuade,_ the figure thought, gazing out the window at the countryside rushing past, but not really seeing it. _That is, if I can appeal to her weaknesses. That shouldn't be too hard, for she has many. Indeed, far too many. She can be so easily manipulated that it's a wonder she doesn't see it herself. Well, my job should be fairly easy, then. Like pouring salt into an open wound to make her scream. I could say _that_...yes, and _that_..._

Thus the hours passed, as the city faded into rolling plains to the clickety-clack of the train's movement. The train soared through several towns, and came to the edge of the large forest that ran along the western border of Amestris. "Vald!" cried the conductor, walking up and down the train. "We're coming into Vald Station!"

The cloaked figure, who hadn't moved for hours, rose up from the train seat like a bird taking flight, catching the conductor off-guard. But the figure didn't wait to see the man's start of surprise as what had almost seemed to be part of the train itself brushed past him. He nearly dropped the ticket he was punching a hole through, but managed to grab it again as it fluttered through the air. The cloaked figure swept down the aisle and leapt from the train car before it had come to a complete screeching stop, and was already leaving the tiny station by the time most were still clambering off the train.

The dark figure soon left the noisy station behind; the trees closely lining the path insulated all sound, till all that could be heard were the natural noises of the forest. The figure seemed to glide rather than walk, passing between the trees as though it was a shadow, and not a person with a corporeal body.

A quarter of an hour later found the cloaked figure finally emerging from the cover of the trees, pausing for a moment to stand on a hill overlooking a small village tucked in between the trees, smoke rising from several of the chimneys. The scents of trees growing and trees burning to ash mingled in the air, creating a warm, almost spicy aroma._ A carpenter's paradise. I suppose that's why so many of the townspeople are carpenters and woodcutters._ A dirt road led a more direct course from the train station, but the cloaked figure hadn't wanted to come so close to the place that had once been home. _No...it would not do for them to see me. Not when, to all their knowledge, I am..._

Shaking such thoughts aside, the figure started down the hill, making for a small, cozy-looking cottage a short distance from the rest of the village. The woodcutter who had once owned this cottage had died long ago, but the cloaked figure knew that _she_ would still be there. _Yes, she is sentimental like that. Weakness._

No one from the village of Vald saw this stranger enter the cottage. If they had, they would have realized that this was no stranger at all. If they had, they might have been able to prevent a catastrophe that would change Amestris forever.

* * *

Miranda readily admitted to herself that she was lonely. As if it wasn't enough that her parents had died when she was a child, the last remaining member of her family was gone as well. She knew the villagers took pity on her; she was reminded of their pity every time she clumped across the room, something she would not have been able to do had it not been for them. She sighed as she hobbled across the main room of the cottage she lived in by herself. It was sparsely furnished – a bed, a chair, a small table – and everything but the stone fireplace was made of wood. Some might consider her house primitive in the age of concrete and indoor plumbing, but for Miranda it was home. Upon reaching the wooden counter on the far wall, she leaned against it, biting back the ache in her ankles and looking down at her legs, which ended in wooden feet carved to look as much like real ones as possible. Yet no wood could substitute real flesh.

Pushing her lank brown hair out of her eyes, Miranda glanced out of her kitchen window, then froze. Someone was making their way up the path to her cottage, someone wrapped tightly in a dark cloak. _No one comes that way,_ she thought. _They all come from the back, since it's closer. Unless they're coming from the train station..._

The figure approached the cottage and opened the door without knocking, as though this was its own house. Miranda was about to demand who this person was when she met the eyes deep in the shadows of that cloak and realized she didn't have to ask. "You," she breathed, clutching the edge of the counter for support. "What are you doing here?"

"Aren't you pleased to see me, _sister?_" the figure asked sarcastically.

Miranda swallowed painfully, then forced her voice to remain steady. "I asked you what you're doing here."

"Don't try that tone on me, Miranda. You know it won't work." The cloaked figure looked around, spotted the chair, and dropped into it, leaning back onto two legs with a creak. Still, the hands hidden within the folds of the black cloak made no move to push back the hood.

A muscle in Miranda's cheek twitched, but she chewed on her tongue and remained silent.

"I have a…proposition for you, Miranda. No…more like a demand."

"You can't make me do anything," Miranda snapped.

A smile was visible even in the shadow of the cloak's hood, white teeth sparkling in the darkness. "Oh, I believe I can." Abruptly, the cloaked figure changed tack. "I know how out-of-the-way this village is, but have you heard of the happenings in Central?"

"Lots of riots," Miranda said cautiously, remembering the headlines of the bi-weekly newspaper that made its way here.

"How eloquently put. And you know what 'lots of riots' means? Lots of deaths. The fool who calls himself Fuhrer tries to keep the death toll down, but this is a hard task when the Sect is so violent, wouldn't you say? And so well-armed, too. I wonder where they got all those military-issue weapons?" The chair dropped back onto the floor with a bang that sounded uncannily like a gunshot. The figure laughed cruelly, and Miranda's stomach twisted at the sound.

"This is all your doing, isn't it?" she demanded. "You're making all these people die!"

But the figure only laughed and said, "How classic! Lump all the blame onto me! You forget, my dear sister, where I came from."

Miranda blanched and found she had nothing to say to this.

"Yes, Miranda," the figure murmured, a smile sparkling from inside the hood like the last remnants of a Cheshire cat. "All these deaths...ultimately they are your fault."

"No!" For a moment, Miranda wondered who was howling like a wounded animal, but then she realized _she_ was. She lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, horror and grief racing through her. It wasn't just the figure's words that had reduced her to this. It was all the memories they had shared – willingly and unwillingly. It was the terrible knowledge that this cloaked figure spoke the truth, for once. For it _was_ her fault; Miranda could see it now. It was _her_ actions that had led to all this conflict, all this death.

But the cloaked figure wouldn't let her wallow in her guilt for long. Miranda could feel hot breath on her cheek as the figure said right next to her, "Come with me, Miranda. You know alchemy. You can make me the Philosopher's Stone."

"What would you want with the Philosopher's Stone?" Miranda asked dully, wiping tears from her cheeks.

"With the Philosopher's Stone, I can put a stop to all this death," the voice said, a silken temptation that wound through Miranda's ears. "You wouldn't even be killing anyone with the transmutation; they would already be dead. And you don't need to bother yourself about making the transmutation circle either; I've already seen to that. All you need to do is activate it. Obviously, I can't perform alchemy...but you can."

"Wait," Miranda said, heart pounding in her throat. "The Philosopher's Stone is made from human lives. Who exactly are you killing?" She met the glittering eyes in the dark recesses of the hood, and shuddered as she read the answer in them. "No," she whispered. "I'm not going to use the citizens of Central to make a Philosopher's Stone! It...It's not right to make a Stone in the first place. So many lives are needed; how can you say you're more important than-"

But the cloaked figure, it seemed, had had enough. A hand suddenly shot out and closed around Miranda's throat, clutching with greater strength than she had expected. Miranda clutched at the hand, gasping for breath, but the fingers only tightened slowly, ready to snap her neck if necessary. Miranda didn't need to wonder if they would dare. Yet this, more than anything else, assured her that the cloaked figure was _not_ the same person as before. How they both had changed!

Miranda's vision began to darken as the figure squeezed tighter and tighter. She listened to the gagging, choking noises she was making as if they came from someone else. The figure remained silent; the threat was obvious, and no words were needed. Miranda's lungs screamed for air; her heart pounded desperate fists against the inside of her chest, begging for a reprieve. "Okay," she finally managed to mouth out. "I'll do it." Immediately the pressure lifted. She sucked in air, holding a hand to her burning throat. She wondered if the throttling would leave physical marks, or if the only scars would be in her soul.

The figure rose triumphantly above her. "Good. Now get up and pack your bags. We're going to Central. And I'll warn you now, but never again: No running. If you so much as attempt to escape, I will not hesitate to kill you. There _are_ other alchemists in the world, you know."

Miranda nodded. She understood. She knew the cloaked figure had only come to her because she could easily be persuaded. Yet as she packed a small overnight valise, as she meekly followed the cloaked figure to the train station, as she sat in the train bouncing and clattering its way to Central, she racked her brains for some way to thwart this person's plans. Surely, there was _something_ she could do!

Unfortunately, Miranda found it very hard to concentrate when a pair of red, slit-pupiled eyes watched her at all times.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_Meanwhile, the two sisters had wandered far from the path and each other._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

Nina hummed absently to herself as she pulled on her military uniform, still stiff and new and uncomfortable, at the foot of her bed in the hotel room. She wondered if she would ever get used to wearing it. It caught in all the wrong places, tight around the elbows yet loose around the stomach, and she wished she could just forego it like her father.

"You seem happy this morning," Trisha remarked huskily behind her, still yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Thinking about work today?"

Nina snorted. "Oh, right," she said sarcastically as she buckled her silver watch onto her belt. "The paperwork makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"There _are_ perks to the job, you know," Trisha said, a hint of teasing in her voice.

Nina chose not to reply, knowing where Trisha was headed. Even so, she had to turn her back to hide the silly grin that crept up onto her face as the form of Maes Mustang swam before her eyes, smiling handsomely.

"So," Trisha continued slyly, brushing out the tangles in her wavy hair, "when are you going to tell him?"

"Don't be stupid," Nina snapped, the smile slipping off her face. She glanced over at her sister and wondered why she had ever wanted to cut her hair short instead of keeping it long like Trisha's. She also wondered why _she_ had been the one to inherit their father's golden irises; it was such an ugly color, nothing like the glittering blue of Trisha's eyes. Nina heaved a sigh, but Trisha wasn't finished yet.

"Maybe you could write him a letter or something, telling him of your ardent passion." Trisha sighed romantically, clasping her hairbrush against one cheek.

"Shut up," Nina muttered, heat rising in her cheeks.

"_Dearest Maes,_" Trisha fantasized, ignoring Nina. "_I have long desired to tell you what burns inside me, but have been unable to summon the courage until this moment. However, our love cannot be held in check by-_"

"I said, shut_ up!_" Before Nina even realized what she was doing, she took two steps towards her sister, balled her fist, and punched Trisha in the face as hard as she could.

Trisha's hairbrush fell from her hand to clatter on the floor; the sound seemed incredibly loud in the sudden silence. Nina held her clenched fist in the air, staring with shock into her sister's equally shocked eyes. Then Trisha turned abruptly and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind herself with a snap.

* * *

Nina and Trisha did not speak all the way to Headquarters. The walk that was already long enough seemed to stretch on forever without Trisha chattering away, either complaining about their fellows or laughing about them. Nina found that even thoughts of the Lieutenant Colonel couldn't interest her for long. She was uncomfortably aware of the large red bump on Trisha's cheek, glaring its silent accusation at her. But Trisha didn't mention it, neither in anger nor forgiveness, so Nina decided it was probably best not to bring it up. At any rate, she wasn't going to talk about it before Trisha did! But the overcast sky growled with distant thunder, giving voice to the words their sullen silence didn't say.

When Nina opened the office door, she was greeted by the smell of tea and a pile of envelopes thrust into her arms. Dirk called out cheerily, "Good morning, and sort this mail!" He turned to Trisha and said, "And _you_ can get me some tea," as though this was a special privilege only given to a lucky few.

"Get it yourself," Trisha snapped. "It wouldn't kill you to walk down the hall every now and then!" With those words ringing in their ears, she swivelled and stomped right out the door again, presumably to fetch her paperwork.

Dirk scratched his blond head. "What's with her?" he asked the room at large, but received no answer. Mustang had yet to arrive, Fuse was already feverishly at work, Bones was busily sharpening a pencil, and Nina hunched her shoulders over the stack of mail so she wouldn't have to meet anyone's eyes. Seeing he would get no response, Dirk shrugged and left the room to follow Trisha's advice and get his own tea.

Nina suppressed a sigh as she mechanically sorted the mail into separate piles for each of them. She and Trisha hardly ever got mail, since their father was in Central as well, and they received weekly phone calls from their mother, but the men were always swamped with letters or notes of one kind or another. Near the end of the pile, she found a magazine called 'Gardening for the Expert,' which was covered with pictures of flowers of all types. Confused, she looked on the back cover to see who it was for.

For a moment, she was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. Or maybe she hadn't gotten enough sleep last night. Surely, those typed letters couldn't spell _Garth A. Bones._ "Er...Bones...is this yours?" she asked the large man hesitantly, holding up the magazine.

Bones looked up, and his face instantly brightened. "Thank you!" he cried fervently, as though she had just pulled him from a flooded river. Taking the magazine reverently into his large hands, he gushed, "I've been looking forward to this issue for weeks! Ever since I first started my garden, I've been wanting to sculpt hedges!" So saying, he buried himself among the floral pages of his magazine, leaving Nina to blink at him, feeling dazed. She glanced around at the others, but they were hard at work as though this was an everyday occurrence, pens scratching away like hens busily foraging for food. After a moment, Nina returned to her work as well, thinking, _Well, at least I know why he smells like lilac now._

Half an hour later, Trisha returned to the office with the paperwork it usually took only a few minutes to retrieve. Nina kept her head down, so she didn't notice how red-eyed her sister was. After a while, though, Nina realized something else was out of place. "Where's Lieutenant Colonel Mustang?"

Fuse spared a glance at the clock. "He was called in for an early meeting with General Gladstone."

Nina's heart leapt to her throat. "You don't think he's...?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and shared dark looks; none of them had been completely convinced by the Fuhrer's assertions that the General and his Wolf Brigade were trustworthy. _This would be the perfect chance for Gladstone to get the Lieutenant Colonel out of the way,_ Nina thought, suppressing a shudder of fear.

"He told us he could handle it," Dirk said, his expression clearly stating he didn't believe a word of it. "He said, 'I'll keep my eyes open, and I'm a pretty good shot, if I do say so myself.'"

Bones shook his head, picking up his pen once more. "One of these days, that arrogance of his is going to get him in a very tight spot."

"But it won't be today," said a familiar voice as their superior officer strode into the room. Everyone immediately stood and saluted, and Lieutenant Colonel Mustang returned the salute with an assuring smile. "The General has informed me that the Sect's store of weapons has been discovered." He nodded as they all murmured in interest. "We're being sent to take it out. This is a very important mission, men. We cannot afford to fail. And...keep your eyes open. There's no telling what might happen."

It seemed Mustang didn't completely trust Gladstone either.

* * *

Nina was practically quivering with excitement and nerves. Lieutenant Colonel Mustang had been given an extra squad of men besides his subordinates for this mission, and everyone – even she and Trisha – had been given rubber bullets for their guns. "The Fuhrer insists on not using real bullets when facing the Sect," Fuse had explained, handing the two of them a pistol each. "Says he doesn't want anyone killed or seriously injured. Unfortunately, the Sect are using real bullets, so try not to get hurt, okay?"

"Yeah," Dirk had chimed in, ruffling both golden heads at the same time. "I, for one, would feel really terrible if we let two kids like you get hurt."

Tapping her foot and pretending to be offended, Trisha had said, "You know, technically I'm your superior."

"Oops! Well, just stay safe, Cornerstone, ma'am."

Now, as they stood at an intersection not far from their destination, all levity was absent from their party. Not a single smile showed itself in the small crowd of blue-clad men. Nina felt conspicuous standing next to Trisha, the two of them the only females in the group, and the only ones to wear anything besides the uniform. Nina began to wonder if it might have been wiser to leave their bright red coats behind this time, but then Mustang began giving out orders and there was no time to think about anything else.

"You four, scout ahead! The rest, surround the building in question and cut the enemy off from it. Fuse, set up your radio at this junction. Solid Stone, Cornerstone!" he barked at last. "You will infiltrate the building itself when we have drawn the Sect out – at my signal. Ensure the building is empty, then seal off all entrances completely with your alchemy." He turned to the group at large and said, "Let's move out!"

Everyone started forth to the positions Mustang specified, four men breaking off to scout ahead and Fuse turning to the side to set up his radio equipment. The clatter of military-issue boots seemed unbearably loud in the eerily empty street. The pistol filled with rubber bullets was heavy on Nina's belt, a strange weight she had no desire to become accustomed to. The chalk in her hand was so light by comparison.

The Sect's armory was only a few streets down. It was a rather unimpressive building: a run-down, abandoned grocery store. A neon sign reading 'Open' hung lopsidedly in the window, no longer glowing, and beneath it sat an ancient cardboard sign announcing 'Apples, 10 cenz apiece'. Barely had the first soldiers begun to move around the corners of the building when men in civilian clothes came rushing out to meet them. Nina barely had time to wonder whether they had known there would be so many people, and whether it was just paranoia to think that the Sect seemed to have expected them, when the sound of gunfire rang out. Mustang barked out orders while calmly shooting one Sect member's leg and another's gun arm, causing all he hit to drop to the ground in pain. It seemed he hardly had to look where his innocent little pistol was pointing; he hit his target each time with amazing precision.

Amidst the confusion and cacophony of battle, Nina watched Mustang out of the corners of her eyes, both to admire his skill and to wait for his signal. In the meantime, she ducked around blue-clad men, transmuting the walls of adjacent buildings in the attempt to trap the Sect men as before. But this time, soldiers were mixed up with them as well, and a simple cage wouldn't work as it had before. Besides, after a few minutes she realized that more and more men seemed to come pouring from all sides. They would have surrounded the soldiers, but a bit of quick chalkwork from Trisha sent them racing away from a few simple man-sized stone hands.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang ducked behind one of these hands for cover, and as Nina was darting past, she heard him shout to Dirk, who had just rushed up, "What do you mean, Fuse isn't there?!"

Nina couldn't hear Dirk's answer over an extra-loud flurry of gunshots, but when she ducked under the stone hand Trisha was kneeling behind, she turned to look back at Mustang. He looked harried, but then his gaze fell on her and he gritted his teeth. Holding his hand up in the air, he snapped his fingers.

"The signal!" Nina cried to Trisha, darting from her cover and dodging through the confusion of fighting men. Once they made their way into the building, Nina breathed a sigh of relief. It was quieter in there, and apparently deserted. She opened her mouth to say something to Trisha, remembered they weren't speaking to each other, and moved off on her own, frowning.

The building still had the air of a grocery store (Nina almost thought she could smell the produce), but all the food and household goods had been replaced with crate upon crate of guns, grenades, ammunition... "Where'd they get all this stuff?" she wondered aloud, rummaging through a crate she had found sitting open. Taking out a rifle and turning it over in her hands, she saw, emblazoned clearly on the butt, the military insignia. Nina gasped, her hands flying to open more crates, and in each one the results were the same. The Sect was using the military's own weaponry.

"All right, drop your weapons and put your hands on your head."

Nina gasped and looked up; a large man stood over her, pointing a machine gun at her. Seeing no way out of it, she threw up her hands, her stick of chalk clattering onto the floor. The man warily advanced, keeping his eyes on her.

Then Trisha slid towards him from where she had hidden out of sight, aiming for his legs and tripping him up. With a yell, the man fell as his legs were pushed out from under him. Nina wasted no time in grabbing her chalk again, and the two sisters transmuted a nearby empty metal shelf into a chain which wrapped around the man's arms, pinning them to his sides. The man gritted his teeth in fury and struggled against the chains, but he could only make them rattle against each other.

Trisha crossed over and picked up the man's gun, glancing down at the insignia that had obviously suffered a crude attempt at removal. "Military," she said softly.

"Yeah," Nina returned, feeling awkward. Then, remembering their orders, she began to move throughout the large building, closing off every window and door.

Trisha did the same, moving in the opposite direction, but after a minute or so Nina heard her say sharply, "We have to get out of here."

Nina whirled around and saw, down at the end of the aisle, the chained man hunched in a corner, the chains pushed up his arms far enough to allow limited movement. Nina started towards him, but Trisha, who was closer, whirled around and started running towards the nearest unsealed exit. "Just leave him! He's-"

"No, we have to-"

"Nina, get out of here _now!_"

Before Nina could protest further, Trisha grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her at a run towards the door. They were nearly there when a small explosion knocked them off their feet. Nina threw her arms over her head as more explosions followed the first, gaining in strength each time. Presently, she became aware that Trisha was crouched over her protectively. "We have to get out of here!" she shouted over the noise.

Nina tried to agree with her, but the next explosion cut off her words. Instead, she grabbed Trisha's hand, and the two of them dove for the door several hundred yards away, flinging it open and racing out into an alleyway. The next explosion seemed to rock the entire world, and Nina thought she could hear a wall collapsing nearby. Finally, though, the noise gave way to relative silence. She could hear men barking orders nearby, but there were no more explosions, no more gunshots.

"You idiot!" Trisha shrieked, punching Nina on the arm. "Why didn't you get out of there when I told you to?!"

Nina's anger blazed up. "Well, you _conveniently_ neglected to mention that he was setting up a bomb!"

"I was _trying_ to tell you, but you kept-"

"What happened, you two?" came a familiar voice. The sisters looked up to find Dirk coming towards them. Other than a nasty cut above one eye, he looked unscathed.

"There was a bomb in there," Trisha announced. "The guard in there set it off."

Dirk shrugged. "Well, at least they won't be able to use their weaponry any more, I guess. Everything that was in there is gone now. Come on, the fighting's over."

As the two of them hurried to follow him out of the alleyway, Nina remembered the insignia on the guns and started to tell Dirk, but when they stepped out of the alley the words died in her throat. Men were lying all over the ground. Some groaned, clutching an appendage or struggling to get up, but others were chillingly still. Most were Sect members, but there were men in military blue as well. A putrid stench lay heavy on the air, and Nina realized with horror that it was the smell of blood and dying bodies. She wondered if she was going to be sick.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang standing and giving orders was a wonderfully familiar sight. Nina hurried over in time to hear the soldier that had just run up to him say, "Sir! Sergeant Bones is requesting your presence."

"Where is he?" Mustang asked. As the soldier pointed Bones out, Mustang nodded to Nina and Trisha, beckoning them to follow him. As they walked, he muttered, "Things got a little out of hand here. The Fuhrer will not be pleased."

"Sir!" Nina said breathlessly. "The weapons in there – they all had the insignia of the military on them!"

"What?!" Mustang demanded, and after a moment he swore explosively. "Well, this day just gets better and better," he growled.

Bones was crouching over one of the many bodies littering the ground. When he heard them approaching, he looked up. Nina gasped; his normally stolid face was anguished, streaked with tears. "Sir..." he said in a trembling voice.

Nina looked at the man he was holding, and her heart went cold. He was in civilian clothes, but there was no mistaking that face she had become so familiar with. It was Fuse.

Mustang, Nina, and Trisha crouched down around him, and Dirk came rushing up as well. On closer inspection, Fuse was still alive, though the red stain on his shirt suggested he might not be for very long. He coughed weakly, his eyelids fluttering open and fixing immediately on Mustang. "Sorry...sir..." he whispered.

"Fuse!" Lieutenant Colonel Mustang grasped one of Fuse's hands.

Fuse's voice grew softer and softer as he spoke; everyone leaned in to catch his words. "June...24...Hom...un...culus..." Then his voice died away altogether, and he sagged in Bones's arms, his eyes wide and staring.

Nina pressed her hand against her lips, trying to stop their trembling, but her eyes filled with tears anyway. She barely registered the words he had said as she stared at his lifeless body. She watched, as though from a great distance, Bones tearfully closing Fuse's eyes, Dirk hunching his shoulders as though he was cold, and Mustang bowing his head over the hand he still held. Much closer to home, Nina felt a warm hand close about her own. Trisha was crying too.

* * *

Nina slowly dragged her feet up the carpeted staircase of the hotel. She felt tired and worn, both physically and emotionally. Once they had returned to Headquarters, Lieutenant Colonel Mustang had gone to inform Fuse's family of what had happened, and had returned looking old and tired. There had been a lot of paperwork waiting for them back at the office, but for once none of them had complained. They hadn't spoken much either, until Mustang said quietly, "The funeral's on Saturday." Then they had all fallen silent once more.

Nina sighed, rummaging around in her pocket for the key to their room. She realized numbly that her chalk was gone, lost somewhere in the confusion of all the explosions. _I'll have to get my spare,_ she thought vaguely as she stuck the key in the lock and turned it, letting herself into the room.

Trisha lay on her side on top of the covers of her bed, staring straight ahead as she had been when Nina had left her. Nina softly closed the door, kicked off her shoes, and padded over to her sister on the rough hotel carpet. The ugly red mark on Trisha's cheek stared up at her, looking even more painful than it had that morning. Nina hesitated, then lifted the bag of ice in her hand and gently laid it on the red bump.

Trisha started at the sudden cold, then relaxed when she saw what it was. Putting up a hand to hold it there, she whispered, "Thanks."

Nina sat on the floor, her back pressed up against the wall by the head of Trisha's bed. The two of them were silent for several minutes, but then Trisha softly asked, "Nina...if I died...what would you do?"

Nina looked up in surprise, and saw that Trisha's eyes were closed, her lip trembling ever so slightly. Nina looked away again and thought the question over. Finally, she replied, "I guess...I'd miss you so much that I...I'd want to bring you back."

Trisha sniffed. Without looking, Nina reached over and grasped her little sister's hand tightly. The two of them stayed that way for a long time.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

_Little Red Riding Hood, seeing how late the hour was, hastened to find the path again and hurried along, so as not to be late for her mother. "My sister is most likely already there, waiting for me," she told herself._

_When Little Red Riding Hood arrived at her mother's house, she thought it strange that the door had been left wide open. "Hello?" she called into the house._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

The next morning, when Nina and Trisha arrived at the office, Dirk met them, not with piles of paperwork or a demand for his morning's supply of caffeine, but with a steaming mug of tea for each of them. Nina took hers gratefully, cupping her fingers around its welcome warmth, and moved to her place at the long wooden table. The sweet smell of the tea and the bitter aftertaste it left on her tongue were oddly comforting. As she sipped the dark, scalding liquid, she glanced over to the left.

Had it only been twenty-four hours ago that Fuse had sat there, warm and full of life, pen speeding along his paper as though it had a mind of its own?

Nina slowly realized, as she stared glumly into the brown liquid in her hands, that Bones was speaking steadily, his deep voice rumbling along like a piece of heavy machinery. Looking up, Nina saw that he was on the phone at the back of the room, his face solemn.

"Yes..." he said. "No, that's all right... Yes, Mom... I will... Goodbye." He looked so much like a meek schoolboy when he hung up that Nina would have been inclined to laugh, had his small dark eyes not been filled with such sadness. Bones tromped across the room and sat heavily in his chair, only to stare at his paperwork with unfocused eyes.

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang entered the room a few moments later, looking as though he hadn't gotten much sleep that night. Nina felt a pang as she thought, _He looks like Fuse._ Mustang had the same dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was even messier than normal. Everyone saluted rather half-heartedly; Mustang made a feeble attempt at his usual toothy grin, but it ended up more like a grimace, and he hastily sat down.

After a few minutes of no one getting any work done, the phone rang again. Mustang looked all too eager for an excuse to leave the table, and picked up the phone after the first ring. "Hello? Yes, put her through." Putting a hand over the mouthpiece, he told Dirk, "It's your wife."

Dirk winced, but immediately crossed over to take the phone from the Lieutenant Colonel. "I knew this was coming," he muttered before picking up the receiver and saying, "Hello?"

A garbled woman's voice could be heard from the other end, even halfway across the room where Nina sat. Dirk's wife sounded hysterical, talking very fast and rather loud, but Nina couldn't make out any particular words. By contrast, Dirk spoke softly, so softly that Nina wondered if his wife would be able to hear him over her own raised voice. Gradually, however, Mrs. Dirk's voice grew softer and softer, and Nina could just barely hear Dirk's soothing murmur. "I'm sorry, Emma... No, sweetheart, don't worry; I'll be fine. I love you. 'Bye." With a sigh, he hung up.

Once he had resumed his seat, Dirk mumbled in explanation, "I didn't tell her last night about...you know. Apparently, she found out from other sources."

"Was she...angry with you?" Trisha asked hesitantly, her gaze darting over to the dormant phone.

Dirk smiled gently. "No. Emma just worries a bit too much. She's not well-suited to having a husband in the military."

Silence fell in the office again as everyone tried to settle into their work. The ticking of the clock seemed unbearably loud by comparison, as if reminding them all that the seconds of their lives were slowly running out. Only several minutes had passed when Bones spoke up. "What did Fuse say...at the end?"

"June 24," Mustang replied dully. "Homunculus." He raised his eyes from the table and met Nina's, and she could tell in that instant that the Fuhrer had told his son all the same stories as her own father. The Fuhrer and the Elrics were well acquainted with Homunculi.

"What's 'homunculus'?" Dirk asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"An artificial human," Trisha replied, giving out the answer almost automatically, "created from an unsuccessful attempt at human transmutation. The Homunculus takes on the form of the person intended to be brought back to life, and has the power to revive its body as long as it has a supply of Philosopher's Stones."

Nina didn't have to listen to Trisha's explanation; their father had explained it to them in great detail, along with a vast multitude of stories from his own experiences. He had done all in his power to ensure his daughters would never make his mistakes. She had thought and thought about Fuse's final words, but she couldn't make any sense out of them. "What did he mean?" she asked the room in general, clutching her coat tighter about herself. "What about a Homunculus? Why June 24?"

They all looked around at each other blankly; none of them could think of anything in particular that had happened on June 24. The room fell back into a rather hopeless silence, punctuated only by the incessant ticking of the clock, and slowly they all turned back to their paperwork. After a while, Dirk got up impulsively and pulled the calendar off the wall, flipping through it to see if he could figure anything out. He sat back down when he reached the month of June, and stared glumly at the orderly squares.

Mustang heaved a sigh and said softly, "Nina, Trisha...go through Fuse's things. I daresay his family will want his...personal effects." His voice tightened, and he hastily scribbled his signature on the paper before him.

Nina pushed herself up; her whole body felt heavy and tired. The section of the table that had served as Fuse's desk was covered in a mountain of papers, pens, and books; she slid some of the pile over to Trisha and slowly sank into Fuse's chair. She tried to concentrate, but a lump kept on forming in her throat, and she couldn't stop stray thoughts like, _This is the chair Fuse sat in yesterday... Fuse used this pen last... That's what Fuse was working on a couple days ago..._

Nina sighed and pushed a reference book aside. Then she noticed Fuse's drawer. Several small drawers had been installed in the table for them to use; she supposed they had been intended for keeping most of their materials in, but they weren't very big at all. Hardly room for two small books stacked on top of each other. Nina pulled the drawer open, and to her surprise found that it was almost empty. She had expected it to be much like the surface of his desk, cluttered and impossible. But the only thing in the drawer was a small black book, the covers smooth and silky to the touch. She picked it up and opened it to the first page. Across the top was written in Fuse's handwriting: _January 1, 1939._ Nina drew in her breath. "I think I found Fuse's journal," she spoke up, holding the book out to Mustang.

Everyone looked up in surprise, and she could tell that they were all thinking the same thing: June 24.

The Lieutenant Colonel grabbed the book, riffling through the pages with sudden excitement. Finally, he cried, "Aha! 'General Gladstone has called us together again, for once to congratulate the Brigade rather than giving us another mission. I'm relieved this won't be another all-nighter; maybe for once I'll be able to finish my work at the office at a normal time. The General said the entire Wolf Brigade deserves a rest once in a while, but not to get too relaxed, because our next mission will be even harder than usual. Easy for him to say, isn't it?'" Mustang's voice faltered, and he raised his shocked eyes to his teammates.

Dirk's knuckles were white around his mug of tea. "Fuse...was in the Wolf Brigade?" he asked in a whisper.

Apparently too stunned to speak, Mustang returned his eyes to the page, reading on silently. After a few moments, though, he gasped loudly. His face was as white as a sheet, and his hands trembled slightly as they held the innocuous little book. After several moments in which he was obviously trying to find his voice, Mustang squeaked out, "'However, a report is due Hunley on the progress I'm making, so I may not get much sleep tonight after all.'"

Bones stiffened so suddenly that he nearly knocked his chair over backwards; the chair squeaked loudly in protest. Nina gaped, open-mouthed, at Mustang. "Hunley? Thomas Hunley? Leader of the Sect?" She remembered months of headlines such as, _Hunley Strikes Again_ or _Manifesto Delivered from Thomas Hunley._

"That's what it sounds like," Mustang said hoarsely, flipping madly through the pages of the journal and reading several passages out loud. "'As per Hunley's orders, I have managed to procure myself a position under a Lieutenant Colonel. But what luck! My officer is Maes Mustang himself, the son of the Fuhrer. I will be in an excellent position to pass information along.' 'General Gladstone has inducted me into the Wolf Brigade. It's quite an honor, but I just hope it won't get in the way of Hunley's orders.' 'Two more have been added to the Lieutenant Colonel's group. They're teenagers, not more than little girls really, but they're the Full Metal Alchemist's daughters, and alchemists themselves. They're a little too inquisitive for my tastes, but as long as they don't stick their noses into my business, no harm will come to the Sect.'" Mustang stopped there, dropping the book onto the table and running a hand over his face.

"Fuse...a traitor," Bones whispered, staring at his large hands in his lap. "I never would have guessed..."

Nina hesitantly reached over and picked up the journal, opening it to the final entry. She read silently, not trusting her voice to remain steady.

_News has reached me that Hunley plans to let some information slip to the military about our weapons. We'll take the majority to the hideout, but leave a sufficient amount in the old grocery store to make it believable. Then we'll set up an ambush to catch the troops unawares._

_My squad in the military, along with additional troops, has been assigned this task, which I find ironic. I feel sorry for Lieutenant Colonel Mustang, but he'll probably survive. He has a tendency to do that. As for me, I'm not sure. Lately, the pressures have been building up on all sides, till I feel like I'm being pulled three ways at once. How many times I wish Gladstone had never noticed me! At least then I would only have to worry about keeping up a face for my comrades._

_I'm so tired. I haven't slept properly in weeks. Months, maybe; I've forgotten. I can't remember how it feels to not have heavy eyelids. And the prospects are only getting worse; if this keeps up I'll be run into the ground with weariness. Maybe it would be better to_

_No, I mustn't think like that. Remember what you're fighting for, Michael! But it's true; sometimes I look around at my comrades and I wonder what I'm doing. In some ways, the answer is simple: I'm betraying them. Betray the military, and I betray the only real friends I've known for years. I told myself over and over that I shouldn't get close to anyone here, but that hasn't worked. They all make such a comforting presence; I know they would stand by me as a friend. But would they if they knew?_

_I don't think I want to do this anymore. I can just see the look on their faces if they were to find out, and even just thinking about it hurts me. Maybe I'll tell the Lieutenant Colonel when this is over. Or maybe I'll tell him in the battle so he can kill me right then and there and have done with this farce. I don't know. I'm so tired I can't think straight._

_I'll write what I've decided to do once we get back from this mission._

Nina pressed her lips together so they wouldn't tremble as she looked at the next page, which was chillingly blank. She hurriedly turned the pages back to June 24. She didn't understand why Fuse would have directed them to that day; there was nothing remarkable about it. Had he forgotten which day it was? Maybe he hadn't meant his journal at all. Or maybe there _was_ no message he wanted them to read. Maybe his dying lips had simply formed those words, and there was no real meaning behind them.

_Generall Gladstone has called us togethyr again, for once to congratulate the Brigae rathir than gaving us another mission. I'm reliefed this won't be anothar all-nighte; maybe for once I'l be a able to finnish my work at de office at a normal time._

"Was Fuse's spelling always this bad?" Nina huffed irritably, glaring at the repeated errors that made the entry hard to read.

The others looked up in surprise from their conversation about Fuse being a traitor, which they had continued without Nina. "Bad? Are you kidding?" Dirk asked with a sad little smile. "He was always correcting _my_ spelling."

Nina frowned at the journal entry, then flipped through the book, glancing at other entries. There was no sign of the horrible spelling anywhere except June 24. Confused, Nina turned back to the error-ridden entry. If Fuse's spelling was normally good, why was this entry so rife with mistakes? Unless... Nina's eyes flicked over the misplaced letters, and she began to see a pattern. As the others returned to their conversation, she grabbed a pen and flipped a sheet of paper over on her desk, scribbling on its blank back.

As she went on, Nina grew more and more agitated at the words materializing before her. Her handwriting became messier and messier as she went along, her hands beginning to tremble. When she was done, she looked up and noticed that Trisha was watching her worriedly. Not taking the time to explain, Nina thrust the paper into Mustang's hands. "Sir, read this!"

Surprised, Mustang read aloud, "'Lydia Farland is a Homunculus. I know this because I saw her regenerating an arm that had been nearly severed by a Sect man with a knife. The skin grew back together in strips until you wouldn't be able to tell it had ever been cut. She didn't see me; I'd taken cover behind an overturned car. Whoever is reading this, please destroy her. She is a threat to all Amestris.'"

Nina slowly looked from one shocked face to another. "It's one of the oldest codes in the book," she said a little defensively. "Taking misplaced or mis-capitalized letters to make a message. Trish and I've been working with codes for years; it's an essential skill for an alchemist."

Lieutenant Colonel Mustang started pacing the length of the room, running a hand back and forth through his dark hair. "This is too much," he muttered. "Too much all at once. Fuse...I never would've imagined..." His subordinates watched him as he paced back and forth. The fifth time he approached the window, he came to a stop and swivelled around to face them all, his boots squeaking. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Well, I think our path is clear. It's vital we tell the Fuhrer about this – along with our evidence." He nodded to Fuse's journal.

"But we can't just let the Homunculus go!" Nina protested, leaping to her feet. "It was the Homunculi who threatened this country before! The old Fuhrer himself was a Homunculus! We _can't_ let something like that happen again!"

"Yeah!" Trisha agreed. "Our fathers risked their lives to get rid of them!"

"You're right," Mustang said impatiently, "but this isn't something we can do on our own. My father – and the Elric Generals – have experience in exterminating Homunculi. Their aid will be invaluable." He abruptly turned his gaze to Bones and Dirk, who had been watching this exchange with slightly puzzled looks. "Bones, Dirk, Trisha!" he barked in the no-nonsense tone that allowed no protests. "Find out where Farland's residence is, and report back to me!"

"Yes, sir!" the three of them cried, saluting.

"Fuse-" Mustang cut himself off, realizing his mistake, and for a moment didn't seem able to speak. When he found his voice again, it was soft. "Nina, come with me. We need to warn our fathers."

"Yes, sir."

Nina had to trot to keep up with Lieutenant Colonel Mustang's quick strides as they made their way through Central Headquarters. Except for the absence of their other companions, this was just like the day they had run to the Fuhrer with their worries about the Wolf Brigade. Nina's mind was all awhirl with their new discoveries, so much so that there was no room to realize that she had been singled out to accompany Mustang. It was hard enough to process that Fuse, the man they had worked alongside for so long, was a traitor. But learning that Lieutenant Colonel Farland was a Homunculus... Nina felt as if she was in a dream. No, a nightmare. All the bedtime stories she had been told as a child were coming true right in front of her eyes.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Nina looked up to find they were hurrying along the hallway to the Fuhrer's office. Mustang broke into a run for the last few feet, wrenching the door open without knocking as he had before and letting it bang against the wall. General Mustang's hand slammed down with a sharp crack onto her desk as she stood up. "Lieutenant Colonel Mustang!" she barked. "When will you learn-"

"There's no time to explain!" Lieutenant Colonel Mustang snapped, shoving her aside.

Nina wasn't quite sure what happened next; she blinked and suddenly the Lieutenant Colonel lay sprawled on the ground with General Mustang standing over him. "If you will not listen to your superior officer," she said coolly, "perhaps you will listen to your mother."

"Yes, Mother," Lieutenant Colonel Mustang said meekly from the floor.

"Now," General Mustang continued, helping him to his feet and brushing off his uniform. "No doubt you came here to see the Fuhrer, but he and the Elric brothers are on their way to West City."

"They're _gone?!_" Lieutenant Colonel Mustang cried.

General Mustang frowned at him. "Yes, they just left a few minutes ago. Your father is a very important man, you know. He has many duties to see-"

But the Lieutenant Colonel was already rushing out the door. Nina hurried after him, shooting an apologetic glance back at his surprised mother. Lieutenant Colonel Mustang didn't spare a moment to say anything to Nina, hurrying through the hallways and breaking into a run when they left the building. Nina raced after him, and saw that he was heading for his parked car. "Get in!" he panted, throwing himself into the driver's seat. Nina barely had time to dive in next to him before the car screeched backwards out of the parking space.

Mustang swung the car around and pounded the gas pedal down hard. The car streaked through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars and and passersby. The third time Nina's head slammed into her window, she braced herself against the bouncing motion of the vehicle and shouted, "You're going to get us both killed!"

"Do you want to drive?" Mustang snapped, screeching around another corner and narrowly dodging a streetlamp. "There's...no time," he muttered distractedly, manuevering down several more streets.

In what seemed like only a few seconds, Mustang slammed on the brakes and pulled to a stop outside the Central train station. Nina scrambled out and ran after Mustang's receding back. The station was filled with the hustle and bustle of train whistles, echoing conversation, and the smell of smoke from the engines. Normally, Nina would be delighted to watch all the interesting people passing through, but now she had no attention to spare for travellers. Lieutenant Colonel Mustang glanced at the timetable, then shouted over his shoulder at her, "Platform Five!"

The two of them put on a burst of speed to reach the train in time, but just as they reached the right platform, the last train car pulled out of the station, spewing billows of smoke and picking up speed as it vanished from sight. Nina slowed to a halt and bent over, breathing heavily. She heard Mustang panting beside her, and after she had regained her breath somewhat, looked up to see what their next course of action would be. Mustang stared after the vanished train for a few moments, then shrugged and beckoned to her, leading the way back to the car.

By the time they pulled out of the station, their breathing had returned to normal. Mustang sighed and drove back to Headquarters at a normal pace. "Well, I guess we'll just have to do this on our own." He glanced at Nina, then returned his gaze to the road. "Do you think we can?"

"It's not a question of whether we can or not," Nina replied quietly. "We _have_ to. There's just no other option. If we waited for them to get to West City, convinced them to come back, and then waited for them to get here... Who knows what that Homunculus could do by then!"

"Agreed," Mustang said grimly. "This would be the Homunculus' big chance, what with the Fuhrer and two Generals out of the way." He paused, then asked, "Did your father tell you how to destroy a Homunculus?"

Nina nodded. "He made Trish and me memorize the circle to seal the Homunculus and make it expell all its Stones. I could do it in my sleep."

"Good. Then all we have to do, once we find her, is distract her long enough for you to draw the circle, then lure her into it...and that will be the end of Lydia Farland." He pressed a little harder on the gas pedal, and the engine almost seemed to growl in agreement.

Nina shuddered involuntarily. She wished she had her father's courage. He and her uncle had been able to destroy seven Homunculi, but she was getting the shivers just thinking about facing _one_. She ran over the design of the sealing circle in her mind again, and it reassured her – a little. There was still the matter of stealing enough time to draw the complex circle, however; even with Trisha helping, it would take a while.

Mustang pulled into his vacated parking space again, and they got out of the car, making their way back into Headquarters. When they stepped into the hallway outside their office, Dirk came rushing towards them. "We found it!" he cried breathlessly.

The three of them hurried into the office, where Bones bent over a map of Central, spread out over the near end of the table. He glanced up at them when they entered, then pointed at a circle drawn in red. "It's there, sir," he said shortly. "Lydia Farland's rented flat."

Mustang bent over the map briefly, eyes darting along the shortest route to it from Headquarters. "Let's go. Now."

Suddenly, Nina realized something was missing from the group crowded around the map. _Trisha would have been the one to point it out. She would've been more excited than anybody to know where the Homunculus is._ "Where's Trisha?" she asked, dreading the answer.

The three men looked around in surprise. "She was here when I left," Dirk said, scratching his head.

"I didn't see her leave," Bones added.

"Nina?" Mustang asked sharply. "Are you all right? You're very pale."

Nina swallowed hard. There was no question as to where Trisha had gone. "We have to hurry."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

_"Come in, my daughter," said a voice from inside._

_Little Red Riding Hood entered the cottage. "I'm very hungry, Mother," she said._

_"Have some meat in the cupboard," answered the wolf._

_A large cat jumped up onto the cupboard and said, "That's your mother's flesh you're eating."_

_"Mother," Little Red Riding Hood said. "There's a cat on the cupboard, and it's saying that I'm eating your flesh."_

_"That's a lie, of course," the wolf assured her. "Throw a shoe at the cat."_

_Little Red Riding Hood, having eaten the meat, was thirsty. "I'm very thirsty, Mother," she said._

_"Drink some wine from the pot," answered the wolf._

_When she did, a little bird came flying and perched on the top of the chimney. "That's your mother's blood you're drinking," it said._

_"Mother, there's a bird perched on the chimney," Little Red Riding Hood said, "and it's saying that I'm drinking your blood."_

_"Throw your cloak at the bird."_

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

_You're being stupid._

_No, I'm not!_

_You should have waited for the others._

_They were taking too long. We can't let the Homunculus get away!_

_You're no match for a Homunculus on your own. What were you thinking?_

"Oh, shut up," Trisha muttered to the voices battling inside her head. "What's done is done, and I'm almost there. I can't stop now."

The sky was overcast, the air cold, and Trisha hoped it wouldn't start raining before she got to her destination. As she walked, she glanced at the crude map she had sketched, ensuring for the twentieth time that she was in the right place. The streets had slowly become more and more deserted, the buildings more and more decrepit. Only a few muffled sounds filtered into the air, till Trisha's footsteps seemed unbearably loud as they echoed in the stillness. It seemed a strange place for a Lieutenant Colonel to live, but all the records said that this was her residence. Stopping in front of the building she had marked on her map, Trisha looked up at its morose face. Paint peeled off the walls, and only a few lights shone from behind curtains, making it look like a desolate crypt.

_See? You should get out of here while you can._

_I'm not scared!_

_Sure..._

"Oh, come on!" Trisha growled to herself. "It's just 'cause the Sect's been through here recently; people will come back eventually and clean this place up!" All the same, she shivered and drew her red coat closer about herself, sniffing at the comforting cat scent that lingered about it. Her coat had once belonged to her Uncle Al, and no amount of washing had ever been able to take out his smell. It was especially reassuring now. Letting out her breath slowly, Trisha took out her stick of chalk and entered the forbidding building. All the way up the stairs to the top floor, the two voices in her head bickered fiercely while the echoes from her footsteps soared upward through the dark stairwell.

_You're going to get in big trouble._

_I'm just going to stall her until the others get here._

_You know there's no guarantee you can do that._

_Nina will know where I've gone. She'll bring the others here straightaway!_

_Yes, but what if it's too late?_

Trisha paused in front of the door bearing the brass number 13, heart hammering in her throat. She _could_ turn away now and meet up with the others, so they could all confront the Homunculus together. But how could she face their accusing looks? _"Where have you been?!"_ they would ask. _"We've been looking all over for you! Don't you know how risky that was?"_ Trisha knew precisely what Nina would say, because one of the voices in her head was that of her older sister: _"You're so stupid, Trisha!"_ Nina would never have done something so hasty; she was too cautious and hesitant, too anxious to play by the rules.

Trisha's hands balled into fists. She _wasn't_ stupid. She knew the risks. But she could do this; she _knew_ she could! Was she the daughter of the Full Metal Alchemist or not? Nodding to herself, she raised her left fist, drew a quick transmutation circle on the wall by the door, and knocked. The hollow thumping sound seemed unbearably loud in the hushed, empty building. Her whole body tensed up as she waited for the door to open, her fingers trembling slightly as they poised to activate the transmutation circle at a moment's notice.

But after a whole minute had gone by with no answer, no door opening, not even the sound of someone moving within, she began to relax. She knocked again, but there was still no answer. Disappointment flooded her. Was the Homunculus not even home? Had she gone to all this trouble only to miss Lydia Farland completely? Maybe this wasn't even the right place. She had probably looked at the map wrong. Heaving a gusty sigh, Trisha lowered both arms in defeat. On impulse, she tried the doorknob, and gasped softly when it turned in her hand. Holding her breath, she carefully pushed the door open, wincing as it creaked loudly.

The hallway beyond the door was almost completely black, and no lights could be seen from the rooms on either side of the hallway. Trisha paused on the threshold, straining her ears to catch the slightest sound, but all she could hear was a tap dripping in one of the rooms. Muscles tense once again, she crept in through the door, pushing it to behind herself, then proceeded to tiptoe through the flat. She passed through a kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom (where the leaking tap was), all sparsely furnished. The whole house smelled musty and unused, as if no one actually lived there. She began to relax again when she stepped into the front room, which had windows looking out over the street below, covered by thick curtains. Only one of the curtains had been drawn back, and the wan light from outside illuminated a dusty old armchair. The chair faced the window and (judging from the long dark streak in the dust on the floor) had been dragged out of its former position in the corner.

Sitting in this armchair, silent and still as if she was a doll, was a young woman _Probably somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, _Trisha thought. This woman's brown hair fell limply to her shoulders, as though it was tired beyond belief, and the expression on her face spoke of the same weariness Trisha often associated with the elderly. The woman's hands were folded neatly in the lap of her faded homespun dress, as though she had been praying. Yet what drew Trisha's eyes were the woman's feet. Her legs stopped at the ankles, and attached to them were heavy-looking wooden blocks carved into the shape of human feet.

Trisha slowly drew closer to this woman, wondering what she was doing in Lieutenant Colonel Farland's flat. When she was only several feet from the armchair, the woman sitting in it suddenly stirred, making Trisha jump and stop in her tracks. The woman turned her head slowly to look at Trisha, but her grey eyes were blank, as though made from glass. The two of them stared at each other for several long moments, and then the woman asked dully, "Who are you?"

"Trisha Elric," she replied automatically.

"Oh." The woman turned back to face the window.

"Um..." Trisha ventured timidly. "Who are you? Why are you in Lydia Farland's house?"

A spark of light entered the woman's eyes, and she turned to look at Trisha with more interest. "You know my sister?"

Trisha's breath caught in her throat. "You're...her sister?" she croaked out. _The Homunculus had a sister?!_

"Miranda Farland," the woman said in reply. Her eyes passed up and down Trisha's figure, seeming to linger on her blue uniform. "Are you...a friend?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Ah," Miranda murmured softly, looking down at her hands. "So you've come to arrest her."

"Well, something like that," Trisha admitted, rather taken aback that this woman seemed so comfortable with the thought that her sister would be arrested. Trisha couldn't help wondering whether Miranda knew what her 'sister' was. "Where is she now?"

"I don't know," Miranda replied, returning her gaze to Trisha's face. "She told me to wait for her here."

Trisha felt increasingly awkward. "Er...I didn't know she had a sister."

"I'm not surprised. I actually live in Vald."

"Where?"

"Never mind. Just a backwater village." Miranda's eyes strayed away from Trisha's face again, this time alighting on the silver chain glinting between her pocket and belt. A little more interest came into her eyes. "You're a State Alchemist?"

"Yeah," Trisha said, pulling out her pocketwatch to show her.

Miranda's eyes widened slightly. "That's where I've heard the name Elric! You must be related to that Full Metal Alchemist person!"

"He's my father."

Comprehension dawned on Miranda's face, then her features dulled again. "You know about my sister, don't you? You've come to destroy her."

Trisha bit her lip. "Yes, actually."

Miranda nodded. "Of course you'd see it that way. I understand why you want to do that, but..." She turned her head away with a sigh. "I tried so hard to bring her back."

"You were the one who created her?" Trisha asked in a shocked whisper.

"Of course," Miranda replied darkly, her hands suddenly convulsing in her lap. "When my little sister died, I realized that life was meaningless without her. So I studied alchemy, and performed human transmutation. Of course I knew that it is forbidden, but...I didn't understand why until..." Her voice trailed away, as she squeezed her eyes shut and gestured at her wooden feet. "The Gate took my feet, and I was left lying in a pool of blood with the mangled results of my mistake before my very eyes. The Homunculus left after a couple days, leaving me to face my guilt alone. None of the other villagers understood what I'd done, but they made new feet for me. I thought I would be able to live with the guilt and not make any more mistakes, but...then Lydia came back...and brought me here."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Trisha whispered.

Miranda laughed bitterly. "Who knows? Maybe I like hearing myself talk. Or maybe...maybe I just want someone to understand."

Trisha gasped as Miranda's gaze met her own, for in that moment she _did_ understand. She saw Nina sprawled on the ground, blood dribbling down her chin, her golden eyes horribly blank. The whole world seemed to fall away, and a cold weight dragged at her stomach. She saw a life without Nina, without her big sister – no smiles, no punches, no giggling together, no long pages of notes and diagrams on their latest alchemic find – and she realized that such a life would be empty. Without Nina, all that was meaningful would be sucked from her life, and there would be no _point_ in living any longer. Trisha raised her fingers to gingerly touch the large bruise on her cheekbone, a lingering testament to their latest fight, and she remembered how Nina had brought her ice to bring down the swelling. She remembered the tight grip on her hand as they sat in an understanding silence. She remembered what Nina had said: _I guess...I'd miss you so much that I...I'd want to bring you back._

And in a sudden, painful epiphany Trisha knew that, were she in Miranda's position, she would have done no differently.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to say that she understood, but before she could a hand closed around her throat. Choking, her fingers scrabbling uselessly at the iron grip around her neck, she looked up into a pair of red eyes with vertical pupils staring down at her. She blinked with difficulty, the tears in her eyes sliding down her cheeks. She recognized the face around the eyes. Lydia Farland was just as pretty as the day they had met, with her brown curls and pleasant face, but there was a fierceness that hadn't been there before that sharpened her eyes and made her mouth savage like a wild beast. "I remember you," Lydia murmured, her breath rushing across Trisha's face. It smelled like new wood. "You're that Elric brat. Come to listen to Auntie Miranda's stories, have we?" Her fingers tightened around Trisha's throat.

"No!" Miranda cried, leaping to her feet. She started forward, but tripped over her own wooden feet and went sprawling with a clatter and a thump.

Lydia laughed derisively, but she loosened her grip. As Trisha desperately coughed and gulped in air that stung against the back of her throat, Lydia sneered, "You're right, Miranda. A hostage might come in handy. For insurance. But I'm warning you," she snarled at Trisha. "One attempt to transmute-" she pointed with her toe at the stick of chalk that Trisha had dropped on the floor, then slammed her heel onto it and ground it into a fine powder with a horrible crunching sound. "And that will be you." She glanced with disgust at Miranda, who was struggling to her feet. "Get up, you oaf." She kicked her sister, making her fall over again, then transferred her grip from Trisha's neck to her arm. "Now come, both of you. We have important business to see to."

Lydia hauled Miranda to her feet, still keeping a firm grip on Trisha's arm, and for a moment the two victims met each other's eyes. Miranda's face held an unreadable emotion. Did she feel sorry for Trisha, or was it something else entirely? Before Trisha could decide, their gaze was broken as they were led out of the flat.

_See? I _told_ you this would happen!_

_Shut up! You did _not_ say this was going to happen! You can't see the future!_

_But I knew something bad was going to come of this! Why do you never listen to me?!_

A tear rolled down Trisha's cheek, and she thought that if Nina called her stupid for this, she would have to agree.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

_Having eaten the meat and drunk the blood, the little girl turned to her mother and said, "I'm very sleepy, Mother."_

_"Come over here and get some rest," the wolf replied._

_Little Red Riding Hood approached the bed. "Mother," she said in surprise. "What big ears you have!"_

_"All the better to hear you with, my dear," said the wolf._

_"Mother, what big eyes you have!"_

_"All the better to see you with, my dear."_

_"Mother, what big arms you have!"_

_"All the better to hold you with, my dear."_

_"Mother," Little Red Riding Hood said, beginning to worry. "What big teeth you have!"_

_The wolf smiled a wicked smile at this, revealing all of her many teeth. "All the better to eat you with!" she cried, and pounced on Little Red Riding Hood, swallowing her whole. The wolf was now so full that she fell sound asleep in the bed._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

Edward Elric turned around in surprise as someone banged frantically on the door to the Fuhrer's office. Fuhrer Roy Mustang cut himself off in the middle of his sentence, then nodded to General Mustang, who was closest to the door. She opened it, and Alphonse Elric stumbled in, tripping on the thick carpet. Ed's insides went cold at the look of intense fear on his younger brother's face; he hadn't seen that look for many years. "Al?" He quickly crossed over to Al's side, gripping his arm and pulling him further into the room. "What's wrong?" He could actually feel Al trembling; he could practically smell the fear radiating from his little brother.

"The Homunculi!" Al gasped out, panting as though he had run up all the stairs to get here. "They've been seen again!"

Ed's heart convulsed violently, and he was sure he would soon find it bursting up through his throat and out his mouth. He hadn't seen a Homunculus in...twenty-five years, he supposed it must be. To think that someone would be foolish and desperate enough to create one again... "Wait," he said, stilling his thoughts. "'They'? There's more than one?"

"We're not sure," Al replied, trying to control his heavy breathing. "The message was garbled... I met Lieutenant Colonel Farland in the hall; she was coming to inform us. We got a distress signal from West City – something about a man with the Ouroboros tattooed on his neck. There might be a woman with him too."

Ed looked over at the Fuhrer, who stared at Al as though he didn't want to believe his ears. _Well, neither do I, really,_ Ed thought. As he watched, Fuhrer Mustang ran a hand through his greying hair and stood up. "Much as I hope they're mistaken, it sounds like a Homunculus, all right. Liza, contact Lieutenant General Armstrong and have him join us with a squad of his men."

"Yes, sir!" General Mustang snapped to attention, then hurried out the door to carry out his orders.

"I'm a little out of practice," the Fuhrer said mildly, pulling on his gloves, "but I think the four best alchemists in the country are more than a match for however many Homunculi are waiting for us."

Ed rolled his eyes at his friend's arrogance, but he had to admit Mustang had a point.

As soon as Armstrong had joined them, they hurried to the train station, barely managing to catch the train heading westward. They all sat in the same compartment, discussing what their plan would be once they encountered the Homunculus. It was rather straightforward; they had all fought Homunculi before. The trick with this one was that they had no idea of his powers, nor how many companions he might have. They would have to be careful. After a few minutes, Armstrong left to contact the western Military Headquarters, so that they would be prepared for the Fuhrer's arrival.

As he watched Armstrong squeeze through the sliding door of their compartment, a thoughtful look came over Al's face, as if he was trying to remember something. "Wait a minute..." he said slowly. Then his eyes widened and he shot to his feet. "Oh no!" Al cried, his voice higher than normal.

"What is it?" Mustang asked sharply.

Steadying himself against the motion of the train as it clattered loudly over a bridge, Al said, "I just remembered! The woman who gave me the message...Lydia Farland...her eyes were red."

"An Ishbalite?" Ed asked, confused. Many Ishbalites had joined the military after Mustang had become Fuhrer, but generally Ishbalites had dark skin, and if Ed was thinking of the right person...

Al shook his head. "Her pupils were like a cat's!"

Ed stared at Al, horrified, but Mustang looked confused. "What does that mean?"

"All Homunculi have red eyes with vertical pupils," Al said softly, still looking at Ed. "What do we do, Brother?"

"Go back, of course!"

"Wait," Mustang cautioned as Ed made to get up. "We can't rule out the possibility that there _are_ Homunculi in West City as well."

"My daughters are in Central with a Homunculus on the loose," Ed said savagely. "You can go to West if you want, but I'm going back."

"Me too," Al immediately added.

Mustang held up his hands defensively. "I didn't mean we wouldn't go back. But I think Alphonse and Lieutenant General Armstrong should continue on to West City, just in case."

"You're right," Ed said reluctantly, feeling the tension rising inside of him. "It's just... My babies are in danger, and...I can't rest until I know they're safe." His hands slowly clenched into fists on his knees. He didn't want to think about what could be happening in Central at that very moment.

"My son is there too, you know," Mustang said softly.

Ed looked up, and their eyes met. In that moment, they were not Fuhrer and General. They were not friends who had spent so much time around each other that they regularly got on each other's nerves. In that moment, they were just fathers worried about their children.

_And? What are you going to do now?_

_I'm thinking, I'm thinking!_

_Making a Plan B was beneath you, I guess?_

_Are you going to help me think of something, or not?_

_There's no way you can get out of this, you know. You heard what the Homunculus said. Try to escape, and you're dead – and twice proven to be stupid, I might add._

_No! There has to be some way to scrape out of this!_

_Yet you have absolutely no ideas._

"I'll think of something," Trisha muttered under her breath to the sarcastic voice in her head. Luckily, neither Lydia nor Miranda seemed to hear her as the three of them came to a stop in the empty city square; they seemed to be listening to a sound in the distance. Trisha listened as well, and thought it sounded like a large crowd of people cheering. No, shouting. Shouting angrily. "What's that?" she asked in alarm as the sound grew louder and louder.

Lydia Farland glanced at her, smirking. "That, my friend, is the sound of civil war."

"Civil war?!"

Lydia's smile widened triumphantly. "Precisely. I've been working towards this day for years now."

Trisha scowled around at the square, strangely devoid of civilians. It seemed this was their destination, but she couldn't see why. "What are you planning?"

Lydia let out a short laugh. "Isn't it obvious? What has any Homunculus ever wished for?" An ugly sneer marred her otherwise pretty face as she turned to Miranda. "Humanity. I was human once, but that wasn't good enough for you, was it? You just _had_ to turn me into a soulless doll."

Miranda shuddered visibly, refusing to look up at the creature that had once been her sister.

Trisha looked around the square again, and this time she noticed thin but strangely straight cracks running through the stones of the ground. It almost looked like a... No. Surely not. Trisha saw in her mind's eye an old sketch of a transmutation circle from her father's research notes. It had been more complex than any circle she had ever seen, and when she had asked him about it, he had reluctantly informed her that it was the circle to make a Philosopher's Stone. And unless her eyes were deceiving her now...the cracks in the ground around her were identical to that circle.

Whirling around, Trisha glared at Lydia. "My father told me all sorts of stories about the Homunculi in his time, and you're just the same. So, which one are you? Lust? Envy?"

Lydia smiled, and it took only a little imagination to turn her white teeth into the snarling maw of a monster. "I am Envy, for I envy all you humans your humanity. I am Greed, for I am greedy for that which I do not have. I am Gluttony, for I gorge myself on human life. I am Sloth, for I long to have everything without working for it. I am Lust, for I lust after the unattainable. I am Wrath, for I _hate_ you humans with a passion! And I am Pride, for I am the only Homunculus – the one, the only, the beginning and the end! I am all of these, yet none of these!" She tipped back her head and laughed – a cruel, wild laugh, like a hyena leaping for the kill.

Trisha caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye and heard a clap that echoed around the square. Yet even as she turned her head to investigate the source of this sound, Miranda's hands, suddenly strong and rough, shoved her towards Lydia so that they crashed into each other. Time seemed to move slower than normal as Trisha watched with growing horror the blue electricity of a transmutation shooting up her arms. Miranda said in a harsh, rapid whisper, "If I sacrifice you, I can bring her back!" The limp, morose Miranda was nowhere to be seen; she had vanished in place of this frenzied lunatic.

Trisha looked into Miranda's eyes, turned wild in the dancing light of the transmutation, and knew that there was no hope for her.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

_Now, Red Riding Hood had gone much farther from the path than her younger sister, and only now approached the cottage. She looked inside and saw the wolf sleeping on her mother's bed, with a bulging stomach, and guessed what must have happened. She cut open the wolf's stomach and helped her younger sister out, and together the two of them filled the sleeping wolf's stomach with heavy stones, sewing her stomach back together._

_When the wolf woke up and saw the two sisters standing over her, she panicked and tried to run out the open door. The stones in her belly weighed her down, however, and she fell down dead._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

"Dirk," Lieutenant Colonel Mustang said as he and his subordinates walked briskly through the halls of Central Headquarters, sounding like a miniscule army marching about the parade grounds. "Go immediately and inform General Mustang of the situation, follow her every order, and see to it personally that the Fuhrer hears of this as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir!" Dirk saluted, then turned and rushed off to the Fuhrer's office.

Mustang led his remaining two subordinates to his car. Nina sat in the front again, as the backseat was currently occupied by Bones sorting out the weapons they would need, his wide berth and all the weapons spreading out across the seat and filling up all the space. Under normal circumstances, she would have been surprised that so many guns of different shapes and sizes could all fit on one person, and the mingling scents of lilac and oil would have interested her; as it was, she was much too busy staring around in every direction for the slightest sign of her little sister. "Hurry up!" she demanded, clenching and unclenching her fists on her knees.

"If we hurry too much, we won't be able to see her even if we passed right by her," Mustang pointed out, though he sped up a little.

Nina clamped her teeth on her lip, straining for a glimpse of wavy gold hair, a flash of brightest red, _anything._ What was happening to Trisha at this moment? Had she reached the Homunculus' hideout? Was Lydia Farland threatening her? Maybe... What if she had... Tears welled up in Nina's eyes, making the buildings around them bend and dance like the grass coating the hills of her countryside home. She tasted something sharp and metallic, and realized that she had bitten down so hard on her lip that she had drawn blood. As she sucked on her lip instead, tangy blood piercing her tongue, she tried not to imagine Trisha with that same blood pouring from a dozen wounds. _You have to be all right,_ she said silently, wishing that Trisha would be able to hear. _'Cause if you're not-_ But that thought brought even more tears to her eyes. She hurriedly blinked them away; she needed to be able to see their surroundings. Twin tears snaked down her cheeks, but the men were too busy to notice.

"What's going on?" Mustang suddenly began to slow down. "Look!"

Nina impatiently turned to look out Mustang's window, then felt a cold sliver of dread run through her. Two streets down, a vast mob of men, shouting at the top of their lungs, marched in the direction of Headquarters.

"The Sect," Bones grunted from the backseat.

Mustang slowed down even more. "We need to do something! There hasn't been a riot this big for years. With the Fuhrer gone-"

"No!" Nina cried before he could brake. "You can't! We have to go save Trisha!"

Mustang turned on her furiously. "Is the sacrifice of this city worth saving one girl's life?" he demanded.

Nina gritted her teeth and snapped through them, "Her _death_ could sacrifice this city! Homunculi can't do alchemy. If Farland uses Trisha, she could blow up the entire city!"

Mustang held her gaze stubbornly for a few moments, then turned without comment back to the front and sped up again, a groan from the engine voicing his reluctance.

Nina had little time to celebrate her victory, for soon they were pulling into the city square, and she saw exactly what she'd been longing and dreading to see all this time. Standing in the center with two other women, Trisha looked small and afraid, but _alive._ "Stop!" she nearly screamed at Mustang. "That's her, that's her!"

Almost before the car had come to a stop, Nina threw open her door and started running towards the three figures. Her heart went cold as she recognized one of them – Lydia Farland, who was laughing at the top of her lungs. Even as she rummaged in her pocket for her chalk, the third figure, someone she didn't know, suddenly sprang to life. This woman clapped her hands, then thrust them at Trisha and Lydia. Forgetting her chalk, Nina put on a burst of speed as she witnessed this, a wordless shout of terror and anger ripping itself from her throat. She reached out with both hands for her sister, ignoring Mustang calling her name behind her.

As soon as Nina's fingers touched her sister's arm, the whole world was thrown into chaos. From the cobblestones beneath her feet to the overcast sky above her head, all the world was whisked away, leaving nothing but an endless white expanse. Nina's heart quailed within her as she looked up at the only thing to be seen in this void other than the few people around her: tall, double stone doors completely covered with strange words and carvings. There was no wall for these doors to be attached to; they floated in midair above the unblemished expanse of white.

Before anyone could do more than stare up at this strange gate, the doors creaked open. They did not open on more of the blank whiteness; within the gate was nothing but impenetrable darkness, a thousand times worse than the white void outside. Even as the doors opened, hundreds of eyes appeared in the blackness, staring out at the intruders with unreadable emotions. Tendrils of the darkness suddenly shot out, grabbing the small cluster of people and pulling them into the gate itself.

The black tendrils pulled them through a golden whirlwind, dragging them inexorably towards a far-off point of blinding white light. Somehow, though they seemed to be rushing forwards, the air was still and unmoving, neither hot nor cold. As Nina flew through this whirlwind, a torrent of dazzling images flooded her mind. A thousand images, a thousand memories, a thousand emotions filled her from the inside out. Every image was seen, understood, and instantly forgotten, leaving only an imprint where the next image would impress itself upon her mind. Nina felt as if her mind was so full of information that it would explode. It was too much to take in, too much to process, but the stream of information would not cease. Her ears were filled with a rushing sound, but that might have been a thousand combined sounds all blaring together into her ears, so convoluted she couldn't distinguish any one from the rest.

Somewhere in that flood of images, Nina became aware of an odd tingling in her fingers. Looking down, she saw the black tendrils were wrapped tightly around them. She realized that each tendril ended in a small hand, no larger than a baby's. After a moment, she realized she couldn't feel the hands; instead of a feeling where they touched, all that was there was an odd numbness. Then she looked around and saw that there were little black children in the dark mass of tendrils. Their eyes stared at her from every direction, their little hands clamped around her own hands. Nina realized she still clutched Trisha's arm, and Trisha stared around at the little children fearfully. There was something terrifying about their cheerful little smiles.

Everything else, even the endless series of images, was blotted out in a sudden burst of pain that tore a scream from Nina's throat. The little children were laughing now, laughing with tiny, unreal voices, pulling on her hands as though playing tug-of-war. With mounting horror, Nina realized they were pulling her hands right off her arms, the skin splitting and blood spurting up. Nina screamed again as the muscles and bones began to tear as well, and still the children continued to pull.

Through her agony, Nina realized that the little black children were tugging at the others as well. Lydia and the other woman were almost completely engulfed, their faces covered in a black mass so their screams could not be heard. But Nina heard a scream that was all too familiar, and turned in terror to find Trisha screaming as both of her arms were slowly pulled off. The little hands began to reach farther, tugging at Nina's arms and starting to pull at other parts of Trisha's body.

"No!" Nina howled, ignoring the pain in her wrists. "You can't have her!" Struggling against the hold of thousands of tiny hands, she grabbed Trisha with both arms and pulled with all her might in the direction they had come from, struggling to turn and face the gate. Her legs worked furiously, but there was no ground to run on, and the tiny hands tried desperately to pull her back. Nina bumped into something that grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her with much greater strength than she possessed. She didn't care who or what this was; it was pulling both sisters back towards the gate, back to freedom, back towards the pure, white light, and that was all she cared about at the moment. As the three struggled together, Nina noticed the little black hands grasp the last few fingers of the hand on her shoulder. They started to tug, but then the gate began to close behind her, and the black tendrils retreated back into their abode.

Nina collapsed onto the cool ground, pain rising in a feverish wave, threatening to blot out the world again. Gradually, she became aware of a great many voices shouting, and guns firing all around her. Closer to home, she heard a weak whimpering that she instantly identified as Trisha. Before she could crack open her eyes, a strong arm lifted her off the ground. She was bounced and jostled around violently for a short time, then set back onto the hard ground. Finally, Nina managed to open her eyes and found herself staring at two bloody stumps of flesh. It took a long time for her to realize that they were her own arms, cut off at the wrists.

"Trisha?" said a familiar voice above her. "Come on, Trisha, talk to me!"

A weak groan drew Nina's gaze several feet to the left, where Trisha lay at her side, her face grey and tight with pain. A blue military coat had been tied tightly about her shoulders, and Nina suddenly realized why: Trisha's arms were completely gone, shedding copious amounts of blood that already stained the blue cloth a sickening shade of purple, like a body-length bruise.

Feeling something wrapping around her wrists, Nina looked up and saw Lieutenant Colonel Mustang feverishly tying a cloth of some kind around the stump of her arm. Even as she watched, he tied it tight, tore off the remaining sleeve of his white shirt, and proceeded to bind it around her other arm. Nina dimly noted how well-muscled his bare arms were, then croaked out, "Sir?"

Mustang looked rather relieved as he finished his work and turned his gaze to her face instead. "Don't worry; we're out of that...that white place now. Just stay here until the fighting's over, and we'll get you two to a hospital. You'll be safe here!" he called over his shoulder as he grabbed his pistol and rushed away.

As if to contradict his words, a huge creature suddenly appeared mere feet away. It looked vaguely like a lopsided spider, but some of its legs were made of arms, with splayed hands for feet; others ended with feet too large or too small, as though they belonged to someone else. Two heads jostled about on top of its body comprised of two women's bodies fused together. Lengths of brown hair fell down the creature's back, matted with blood and nearly hiding the massive red tattoo of a snake eating its tail. Both heads shrieked at once, their voices clashing together into one terrifying cry, "Where is she?! Curse that child! What have you done to us?!"

Trisha let out a soft sob at Nina's side. "That's Lydia and Miranda," she whispered, tears of pain and regret pouring down her face.

Nina forced herself to sit up, awkwardly pushing herself up on her elbows since she couldn't use her hands. _I _have_ no hands,_ she reminded herself. Panting from the amount of effort it took, she rested her back against something that had provided cover for them from the dozens of gunshots that had been going off until just a moment ago. She glanced behind her and realized it was Mustang's car. Then she looked around at their surroundings.

Men in civilian clothes and military uniforms were scattered all about the city square, and apparently had been fighting fiercely until the hideous creature had shown up. Now they all stared up at it with disgust and horror, their weapons forgotten in their hands.

"Where are you?" the dissonant voice of the Homunculus called out over the silence of the square. "You can't hide from us! We'll find you, wherever you choose to hide!" The Homunculus started forward, its hands slapping against the ground, twin heads swiveling around to look at every corner of the square.

Someone screamed as the Homunculus came their way, and suddenly everyone was firing at it, Sect and military alike. Hundreds of bullets peppered its body, but it only laughed as its body regenerated again and again. Men yelled and fled from it as it charged around, laughing and swiping at them with an arm that had too many fingers.

"Trisha," Nina murmured, looking over at her sister, who was gasping with pain, "we have to stop it! We have to draw the circle!"

With difficulty, Trisha looked up at Nina and said, "You're right."

Nina awkwardly helped Trisha sit up, and the two of them set to work. They soon discovered it was much harder than they had anticipated, for neither of them had hands to hold chalk anymore. They immediately saw that they would have to draw it in blood, so they used their teeth to pull off the makeshift bandages Mustang had given them. Trisha set off, dragging the stump of one arm along the ground to make the main circle, while Nina used the blood from her wrists to make the designs in the middle. Tears ran unnoticed down her face as she worked, ignoring the incredible pain as she dragged her open wounds across the rough, dirty stones. What they were doing was more important than the agony it caused.

Finally, they finished the circle and carefully stepped away from it; Trisha was swaying as she knelt at the edge. In all this time, the men in the square had continued firing at the Homunculus, to no effect except that it had been distracted and not seen either of the sisters. Almost as soon as they finished the circle, there came a lull in the shooting, and the Homunculus sniffed the air. With a cry of, "Blood!" it charged towards Mustang's car. Thrusting the vehicle to the side with a crunch and a crash, the Homunculus loomed over the sisters, cackling an eerie hyena's laugh with its two voices. "I have you now!"

But the sisters were waiting for it. As soon as it stepped onto the circle, Trisha fell on her face, Nina on her forearms, onto the edge of the circle, activating it with the last ounce of their strength. Nina's sight blurred till she could only see wavering blobs of color, but she could smell the blood close to her face. The scent of her own blood mingled with her sister's was somehow reassuring and satisfying. She heard a horrible retching sound over her head, heard something splattering onto the ground, and knew that the circle had worked. The Homunculus was sealed, even now expelling the Stones inside it, making it mortal.

Nina's face was pressed against the blood on the ground now – she could taste its sharp, metallic tang – and she could feel herself drifting away into a warm, dark void. Just before she lost consciousness, she heard Lieutenant Colonel Mustang's voice say calmly into the dead silence, "Die, Homunculus."

A single gunshot, and then Nina knew no more.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: This is the final chapter, people. Thank you to everyone who has read, and even more to those of you who have reviewed! It's been a great eleven weeks XD**

Chapter Eleven

_The sisters moved the body outside of the house, closed the door on the night, and sat down to enjoy the food they had brought with them. And they lived happily ever after._

_- from the fairy tale "Little Red Riding Hood"_

The first thing Nina was aware of was a rhythmic beeping, in time with her heart. It soothed her, in a way; she felt as though she might slip away again at any moment, with such a lullaby to send her on her way. But gradually she became aware of another sensation that caused her sleepy mind to fight the waves of weariness. It was a warm, familiar smell vaguely reminiscent of ink and paper, like an old, favorite book. The muscles around her mouth worked, and she managed to mumble, "Dad..."

Slowly, Nina pulled her heavy eyelids open, to find herself in a sterile, white hospital room. The source of the beeping was a monitor off to the left of the bed she lay in, and the source of the smell was even now leaning over her line of vision. It took a great amount of effort to force her lips into an upward curve, but she finally managed a small smile.

Her father answered her with a much wider smile. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, looking very relieved that she had woken.

"Sleepy," Nina admitted. She blinked several times, feeling dull and stupid, then gathered her wits enough to ask, "What happened?"

Her father's smile instantly vanished, and he took on a worried expression instead. "It seems you were pulled into the Gate. You, Trisha, Maes Mustang, the Homunculus, and that other woman too. But you made it out alive, Nina. You and your sister both. That's what's important."

Nina couldn't understand why he acted as though he was preparing her for a hard piece of news. "Huh?" was as coherent of a question as she could manage.

He pressed his lips into a thin line, then said in an even lower voice, "It...It took your hands, Nina."

Nina remembered the splitting pain in her wrists, and lifted a heavy arm up to her eyes. A clean white bandage was wrapped around her arm almost up to her elbow, and the distinct lack of a hand was painfully obvious. Nina lowered her arm, wondering why this didn't bother her as much as she thought it should. Looking back up at her father, it was obvious that he thought she would be quite shaken by this turn of events, but all Nina could ask was, "Trisha?"

"She's just over there," he replied, gesturing over his shoulder. "She hasn't woken up yet. Both of you lost quite a bit of blood back there, but you'll be fine before you know it."

The mention of blood reminded Nina of the circle she and her sister had drawn. "Dad," she said, feeling a bit more awake than before, "what happened to the Homunculus?"

At this, her father's smile returned. "You and Trisha got rid of it. Couldn't have done it better myself."

Instead of feeling warm pleasure at these words, Nina only felt a guilt that burned on her cheeks. "Dad, it was all my fault!" she burst out. "Trisha went to confront the Homunculus, and I wasn't there to stop her; I couldn't protect her like you've always told me to! Because of me, she risked her life and lost her arms. It's...It's all my fault..." She was unable to control the tears that welled up in her eyes and poured forth.

"Sssh," her father murmured soothingly, brushing her tears away with his warm left hand. "The circumstances were out of your control, and you did the best you could."

"B-But I c-could've saved her," Nina sobbed, unable to quell the tears that shook her body. "I c-could have ign-nored those images, a-and pulled her b-back. I c-could have..."

Her father sighed, his hand a comforting weight on her forehead. "You're just like me, you know? I felt just as guilty when your Uncle Al lost his body. But in my case, I really _was_ partly to blame. None of this was your fault, Nina. It was the Homunculus who caused all of this. You did wonderfully; you were very brave through all of this. I'm very proud of you, Nina."

"Really?" Nina sniffed, looking up into her father's face as he wiped away the last of her tears. She knew she didn't deserve such high praise; she had been scared to death half the time, and completely clueless the rest of the time. But her father was smiling at her, and said he was proud. She couldn't help smiling just a little.

"Now, calm down and get some sleep," he gently admonished. "I've called Mom, and she'll be here on the first train tomorrow. But for now, you need your rest. I love you." He bent forward and kissed her forehead, his beard tickling her and making her smile widen.

"I love you too, Dad," Nina managed to murmur before she fell under heavy waves of sleep again, the sounds of the monitor fading away into the darkness.

* * *

When Nina woke next morning, she felt much more coherent. Trisha, who lay in a bed a few feet to the right of Nina's, was awake as well. They shared no more than a few words, making sure the other was all right, commenting on how the pain had lessened somewhat, and wondering when someone would come to see them. After that, they fell silent, Nina alternating between dropping into a light doze and staring blank-minded up at the ceiling. Nurses or doctors came in from time to time, checking things or changing their dressings. Nina tried not to look when they removed the bandages; the red stains on the cloth made her feel sick.

At around ten o'clock that morning, both of their parents came for a short visit. Their mother kissed them, asked them how they were feeling, and repeated the sentiments their father had expressed before. All too soon, they left again, and the two sisters were alone in their room again.

It was amazing how much time could pass by when one was only staring up at the ceiling. Nina dimly supposed it was the painkillers that made the two of them so quiet, but there also seemed to be some kind of barrier between the sisters. Something needed to be said, or asked, or done, but she wasn't quite sure what. And she was much too sleepy to figure it out, so that day passed with neither of them doing or saying much.

Their parents came to visit later in the day, and this time their mother addressed them both very seriously. "Nina, Trisha," she said. "Both of you have lost your hands, and this is going to make even everyday life very difficult for you. Now, I can give you automail if you want, but I think you're aware of how painful a process that is, and how much maintenance you'll have to do even once the operation is completed. I'd more than understand if you don't want to do that, and we could probably make something work-"

"No," Trisha interrupted softly. "We would only be a burden to everyone if we didn't get automail."

"And besides," Nina added, "how can we do alchemy if we don't have hands?"

"The installation process is more painful than you could possibly imagine," their father spoke up, laying a hand on his right arm. "It's even more painful than losing your limbs in the first place. Don't make this decision unless you're absolutely sure it's what you want, because you won't be able to turn back once it's started. Ever."

Nina shared a silent look with Trisha, then said firmly, "We want automail."

"Yeah," Trisha agreed.

Their mother smiled wryly. "You're just like your father."

* * *

The next day, as their mother was preparing for the operations, the sisters received a visit from their fellow soldiers. Mustang, Bones, and Dirk filed in, all three wearing civilian clothes. Nina realized she had never seen any of them out of uniform; they looked strange in shirt sleeves and pants.

Bones brought an enormous bouquet of flowers that Nina suspected came from his garden, and Dirk brandished a paper bag, singing out, "Chocolate chip cookies! My wife baked them just this morning!" He stood at Trisha's bedside, chatting with her happily and sipping tea from a disposable cup he must have procured from the hospital cafe. Bones joined him as well, smiling to see that Trisha was cheerful even with the striking absence of her arms.

Mustang, however, hung about Nina's bed, looking a little awkward and apparently casting about desperately for a topic of conversation.

Nina smiled, saving him by asking, "So, what's happened in the military over the past couple days?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Mustang replied, looking relieved to have something to talk about. "The Fuhrer and your father made it back here shortly after we went into that Gate thing; apparently they realized something was fishy before they got very far. The Sect leader Hunley actually called a truce; he was there when the Homunculus came out of the Gate. From what my father tells me, he was horrified that all of the Sect's fights have been fueling the Homunculus' plans to create the Philosopher's Stone, and realized he needed to put a stop to all this fighting as soon as possible. Of course, he wouldn't back off completely; he and my father are working out a compromise to take some of the power away from the government and give it back to the people."

"It sounds like it's for the best," Nina commented. "Oh, Lieutenant Colonel-"

"Colonel, actually," Mustang corrected with a grin. "All of us have been promoted for our 'services to the State, which can never truly be repaid.' Well, at least they tried."

Nina laughed. "So I'm a Lieutenant Colonel myself now, huh? It feels strange to be in such a high position at my age."

Mustang laughed good-naturedly. "You and your sister must have broken a record or something. But you two deserved the promotion more than anyone else; you were simply amazing!"

Wishing to change the subject and hide her burning cheeks, Nina noticed that he had tucked a book under his arm. "What's that you're reading?" she asked.

Mustang showed her a little sheepishly. "'An Introduction to Alchemy.' I never really understood alchemy before, but after going through that Gate thing, well...a lot of things started to make sense. I haven't tried a transmutation yet, but...well, maybe when you get out of the hospital, you could give me a few pointers."

"Sure, I'd love to, Lieuten- I mean, Colonel!"

"We're out of uniform; you can call me Maes," Mustang said with a grin, waving the title aside.

Instead of grinning back, Nina's smile slipped away. "What happened to your hand?"

Maes looked at his right hand, which was heavily bandaged. As far as Nina could tell, it seemed his last two fingers were completely gone, and the middle finger was reduced to half its length. "Those black things almost got my hand, too," he said regretfully. "It'll look a little strange, but at least my trigger finger is intact."

"It's a pity you can't get automail replacements. The surgery would be too delicate."

Mustang stood contemplating his missing appendages for a few moments, then dropped into the chair beside her bed. "Nina..." he began slowly. "I...I think I owe you an apology."

"For what?" Nina furrowed her brow in confusion.

"When we were going to rescue your sister...I suggested abandoning her in favor of stopping the Sect. I shouldn't have asked you to do such a thing, but...I've never had a sister, so I didn't...understand how hard such a thing would be." He turned the book over and over in his hands as he spoke.

"That's okay," Nina assured him. "Everything turned out all right in the end."

Mustang looked relieved. "You know...through all this, I almost feel as though I _do_ have a sister now. Two, to be more precise."

Nina suddenly realized as he said this that something had changed in the way she thought about him. Before, she had spent all of her time wishing he would look at her and smile, that he would notice her. But something had changed during their adventures together. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way her silly little crush on him had given way to friendship. Ultimately, she preferred having Maes Mustang as a friend.

Once the men had left, the hospital room seemed very empty. The scent of Bones's bouquet pervaded the room in a soft, soothing aroma of several different types of flowers combined. If she had been able, Nina would have tried one of Mrs. Dirk's chocolate chip cookies, but as it was she would have to wait until one of their parents could help her. It was so strange to not have hands. She kept on forgetting they were gone, and would start to reach out to do something, only to find that her hand was gone. At times, she almost thought she could feel them still, even when her eyes told her they weren't there.

Both sisters were silent for a time, then Nina ventured, "Well, at least things seem to be calming down now. Looks like we won't have to fight any more battles with the Sect."

"Yeah," Trisha softly agreed. After several more minutes of silence, she said hesitantly, "Um...Nina?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm...I'm sorry for...you know...running off on my own."

Nina looked over at her little sister, who was currently staring out the window in the opposite direction. "Why did you do it?"

"I...I wanted to be special. I wanted to be the one to get the Homunculus, so that everyone would say what a great alchemist I was. And because I did that...because I was stupid..." Her voice broke, and Nina realized belatedly that Trisha was crying.

"I don't think you're stupid," Nina murmured, but the sobs that Trisha could not contain drowned her out. Nina watched helplessly as her sister's entire body shook with tears that had probably been kept just under the surface for the past few days. She felt at a loss for what to do or say that would reassure Trisha.

Watching Trisha cry reminded Nina of other times when she had cried this hard – at their sister's funeral...when the family cat had died at last...that one time when the 'big boys' at school had teased her... Each time, Trisha had come to her big sister, thrown her arms about her, and sobbed into her chest until her tears were through. Looking over at Trisha now, Nina realized that her little sister could no longer do this, for she had no arms. Trisha continued to cry, unable even to wipe away the tears that rolled off her chin and down her neck.

_She might not have arms...but I do._ Nina looked down at the bandaged stumps of her arms, and nodded to herself. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she dropped onto the floor. The room spun at first, but she steadied herself and staggered the few steps over to Trisha's bed. Perching on the edge, she clumsily put her arms around her sister's shaking form and held her close. Trisha buried her face in Nina's chest, muffling her tears.

Nina found tears building up in her own eyes as she said, "You know...you really are my Cornerstone. I don't know what I would ever do without you. So...don't you ever leave me, Trisha Maria Elric."

"I won't if you won't, Nina Martel Elric," Trisha replied, and Nina caught the slight hint of a tease in her muffled voice. When she spoke again a few moments later, her voice was serious again. "Sis...if I die...promise me you'll never try to bring me back. I don't want you to turn into another Miranda Farland."

"I promise," Nina whispered, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against Trisha's forehead, where she could smell Trisha's hair and feel her blood pumping through her temple. She and her sister had lost parts of their body, as their father and his brother had before them. Yet at the same time, they had gained something in this adventure of theirs, so really it wasn't so much a matter of loss as it was equivalent trade. Perhaps she was only being optimistic, but Nina thought they had almost gained _more_ than they had lost, like their father before them. They were following in their father's footsteps, becoming a part of his legacy: the legacy of loss.

**The End**


End file.
